“That so,” she smiles “Someone nice, I hope.”
In his head, Sam sees he and Lauren lying in bed on a rainy Sunday afternoon, an open bottle of red wine on the bed stand, their bodies naked, feet touching, his hand holding hers. They’re laughing over something stupid. The world can get along without them because they are their own little world. After more wine and laughter, they’ll make love again, and they’ll be as one.
“She was very nice,” he says. “But she’s gone now.”
“Hop up, Sam,” Cindy insists, hurrying things along. “We’ve got a job to do.”
Unbuckling her belt, Betsy steps out of the plane onto the wing. Pulling up the pilot’s seat she makes room for Sam to slip into the back. She then pushes the seat back in place and resumes her position behind the control stick. Cindy goes aro
