Albany International Airport—December 20
The feelings Leland often associated with plane travel or anything else out of his comfort zone dissipated shortly after he popped the first of Rhoda’s little pills. An overall sense of wellbeing replaced the free-floating anxiety, dry mouth, and quickened heartbeat.
“Don’t forget,” she’d said, “one on the train, another while waiting for your flight.” So what if he took an extra one now and then?
Everything had gone off without a hitch, just as planned. Shelley had picked him up at home and driven him to the Whitehall train station in plenty of time to park, wish him well, and board the Number 68 Adirondack heading south.
On arrival at the station in Albany, he grabbed his overnight bag and proceeded directly to the taxi stand. A half hour late
