Asking for a Friend
LAYTON
“Welcome to New York, sir. We hope you’ll be traveling with us again soon.” A perky flight attendant said with a winning smile. Her name tag told me her name was Cindy.
I hadn’t seen her during the flight, but that hardly meant anything. I spent the entire time rehearsing what I would say to Brice when I finally saw him, alternating between all-consuming rage and total confusion.
“Thank you, Cindy,” I told her absently, disembarking the plane in a city I hadn’t been to for a long time. I couldn’t believe I was returning here for Brice, of all people.