My mother slowly understood.
“She saw my name.”
“She reviewed your clearance file last week.”
Mom looked away.
“She shouldn’t have.”
“She didn’t access anything improperly. Your case passed through her service when you requested travel clearance.”
Mom nodded slowly.
David continued.
“She recognized your name and date of birth.”
“So she told you?”
“She asked whether I was operating Flight 817 today.”
“And you were.”
“Yes.”
My mother shook her head.
“This is ridiculous.”
David smiled.
“It gets worse.”
“What?”
“Elena told crew services that if you happened to be on my flight, they were to make sure you had whatever assistance you needed.”
Mom gave him a look.
“I hate special treatment.”
“I know.”
“That’s why the note says discreet.”
I laughed.
Mom glared at both of us.
For a moment, she looked like herself again.
Not a patient.
Not fragile.
My mother.
Then Richard Collins appeared near the galley.
Claire immediately stepped between him and us.
“Sir, please return to your seat.”
Richard held up his hands.
“I just want to say something.”
David stood.
“Not now.”
Richard looked past him toward Mom.
“I want to apologize.”
Mom’s expression closed.
Richard swallowed.
“I didn’t know you were sick.”
My mother looked directly at him.
And said something I will never forget.
“That isn’t why you were wrong.”
Richard froze.
Mom’s voice was quiet.
“You shouldn’t need to know someone has cancer before deciding not to humiliate them.”
Nobody moved.
Richard looked down.
“You’re right.”
“Yes.”
He nodded.
“I am sorry.”
Mom studied him for several seconds.
Then said, “Thank you.”
Not, it’s okay.
Not, don’t worry about it.
Thank you.
Richard returned to his seat.
David sat again.
“That was very Margaret.”
Mom looked exhausted now.
“Apparently everyone remembers me better than I do.”
I reached for her water.
Her hand was trembling.
David noticed.
“So did Claire.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
“That’s why she checked the boarding pass.”
Claire nodded.
“When I saw the medical notation, I recognized the passenger-care code. Then I saw the attached memo.”
Mom leaned her head back.
“I thought I was about to get thrown off the airplane.”
Claire smiled.
“At cruising altitude?”
Mom looked at me.
“I was nervous.”
I laughed.
Then Mom did too.
But halfway through the laugh, she stopped.
Her face changed.
I saw it immediately.
