Can't Let Go. Gena Showalter
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different today?” Shae asked.
Wincing, J.D. shook his head. “I don’t want you to think that I act like a wimp all the time. Unfortunately, I lost a family member a few years ago when his plane went down.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. That doesn’t make it any easier, does it?”
“No. And turbulence doesn’t make me feel any safer. I’d rather be on the ground.”
Chuckling, Shae responded, “You’re not alone. Don’t fret, a lot of people have problems flying. There’s no shame in that.”
He seemed to consider her remark before answering. “Since 9/11, my anxiety has increased. I’m more nervous. I put off flying as long as possible.” He ran his tongue across his lips. “There’s this mental image in my head that won’t go away. I see those planes crashing into the World Trade Center and I can barely make myself board.”
She patted his hand, not surprised by the fact that he would reveal such personal information to a stranger. Many times people find it easy to confess things to someone they don’t have a connection with. “Maybe I can help.”
He studied her with a troubled expression in his eyes. “How?”
Offering J.D. an encouraging smile, Shae gently pried one of his hands away from the armrest and enfolded it between both of hers. “It’s easy. I can hold your hand, talk to you, offer a distraction from thinking about being in the air.”
The expression in his eyes warmed her heart. Shae knew she had made the correct choice. Gratitude flashed from his eyes.
“Right now I’ll take any help I can get.”
“Don’t worry about anything.” She intertwined her fingers with his. “I’ll be right here. Just hold on to me.”
Shae kept her word; she didn’t let go. For the next hour she kept them both occupied with questions about Chicago. When the flight got bumpy, Shae smoothly shifted the conversation to her life. She entertained J.D. with her stories about Malibu, her family and friends—any topic that would keep J.D. engaged.
As they neared Illinois, the flight settled into a smooth pattern and the pilot turned off the seat-belt sign. All in all, things had turned out well. Best of all, Shae had discovered a new and exciting friend.
Chapter 3
“Ladies and gentlemen, we’ll be landing at Chicago O’Hare Airport in approximately 10 minutes. For your safety, please remain in your seats with your seat belt fastened until the plane comes to a complete stop. Thank you for flying Northwest Airlines and have a wonderful stay in Chicago. Flight staff, prepare for landing.”
J.D. watched the flight crew hurry up and down the aisle, removing empty soda cans and pretzel bags. They checked passenger seat belts and returned trays to the upright position before returning to their seats.
Right on schedule, the plane touched down on the concrete, bouncing along for several seconds before rolling to a smooth stop. J.D. felt his body go slack with relief. He’d made it home in one piece. Still holding Shae’s hand, he turned to her, offering a smile of gratitude for her gentle support.
He wiped his brow and tried to come up with a way to make himself look less like a wimp and more self-assured. Honestly, he didn’t know what to do. Maybe some wonderful inspiration would strike him before they parted company.
“Shae, thanks for everything. You are an angel.”
“You’re more than welcome.”
He offered her a weak smile. “I’ve definitely made up my mind to hire an assistant. That person can handle all the long-distance travel.”
“It sounds like a plan,” she answered.
“The best I can come up with.” J.D. unbuckled his seat belt, stood and stepped into the aisle, making a path for Shae. She opened the overhead compartment and reached for her bag. “Here, let me help you.” He wrapped his hands around her waist and shifted her out of the way. Something intense flared between them when he touched her.
Stunned, he stood like a statue, gazing at his hand. Shae’s sweet voice snapped him back into the real world.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I…it…it,” he stammered. Inhaling a deep breath of calming air, J.D. forced out, “It’s the least I can do.” He felt lightheaded from the emotions swirling inside him. The hours they had spent together had made him realize that he wanted to get to know this woman better.
Shae smiled her thanks and shifted out of his way as he pulled the bag from the white shelf and handed it to her. “Thanks.”
J.D. pulled his black laptop bag from the shelf and secured it on his shoulder. He cupped her elbow. “Let’s get out of here.”
“I’m ready.” Shae accompanied him past the flight crew. J.D. studied her profile as they made their way down the ramp. She was a beautiful woman and he didn’t plan to let her walk away without getting her telephone number or address.
He steered her down the ramp and into the boarding area. They entered the airport side by side.
Inside the airport, J.D. halted, taking a minute to acclimate to his surroundings. Different city and airport, but the same routine. Commuters hurried up and down the walkway, pulling luggage after them, talking on cell phones while they searched for their boarding area. “Come on, let’s get our luggage.”
Several passengers from their flight rushed by J.D. and Shae as they strolled toward the baggage claim area. At the baggage carousel they stood together, silently waiting.
The Asian lady who had caused such a ruckus on the plane shuffled past J.D. and Shae, stopping a few feet beyond them. Seconds later a small group of Asians rushed up and greeted her.
“Mei-Mei,” an auburn haired woman called, wrapping her arms around the older woman. “You made it.”
Each person took a turn hugging Mei-Mei. The tall, male member of the group asked, “How was your flight?”
Mei-Mei’s lips pursed and her forehead wrinkled into a frown. “They wouldn’t let me alone.”
“Why not?” he quizzed.
A serene, knowing expression spread across her face. “I said the blessing prayer over and over for a healthy boy and that Miho wouldn’t have much pain. They wouldn’t let me continue after I got on the plane. They said I was upsetting the other passengers.”
One of the women patted the older woman’s hand and said, “Don’t worry about that. Those people do not understand our customs.”
“You are right.” Mei-Mei asked, “How is Miho?”
“Miho gave birth to a nine-pound boy. His name is Henry.”
Overhearing this, J.D. felt heat burn a path up his neck and into his cheeks. He really didn’t intend to eavesdrop on their conversation, but the group was so close that he couldn’t ignore them. He supposed he should step away, find a different spot to wait, but he was curious. So J.D. stood near the Asian family and acted as if he didn’t hear them. Curiosity forced him to continue to listen.
The young man offered his arm sympathically, “We received our blessing. Thank you, Mei-Mei, for all of your help.”
Hugging the tiny Asian woman, the midnight-black-haired woman asked, “How long can you stay?”
“Until Miho is ready to return to her work.”
“Wow! That long?” One of the young woman rubbed Mei-Mei’s arm. “Great!”
J.D. turned to Shae and found her staring back at him with her mouth hanging open. She grabbed him by the arm and quickly drew him away from the family. “Good grief! I can’t believe it. I thought