Maggie decided retreat was the better part of valor and she opened her book, ignoring him. The plane taxied down the runway and as the wheels lifted off the ground, she closed her eyes. It was her flying ritual since she was a little kid. She closed her eyes and counted slowly to three hundred. By then the plane had usually reached ten thousand feet and she could relax. Although she loved the speed of takeoff and the jolt of landing, flying wasn’t her favorite activity. It was a control thing.
If I was sitting on the pilot’s lap, I might like it
.
“You don’t like to fly, huh?”
Maggie kept her eyes closed and shook her head, irritated. She had only counted to one hundred and fifty.
“Yeah, me neither. I have this ritual…I’ve had it ever since I was a kid.”
Maggie opened her eyes and stared at the bulkhead in front of her, trying to listen and count at the same time.
“I pretend I’m Superman and I run alongside the jet. Just as it lifts off, I lift off too. Makes me feel better for some reason.”
Maggie burst out laughing, losing count. “I don’t know which I find more amusing,” she said, “envisioning you as Superman or the fact that you’re insecure about flying.”
“Hey, I’m just letting you know you’re not alone. Fear of flying is very common.”
“Yes, Doctor. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to read my book.” Maggie gestured at his e-reader. “I suppose you’ll have to wait until we reach ten thousand feet before you can turn that on.”
The man stretched, his broad chest expanding beneath his T-shirt. Maggie tried hard not to notice. “Doctor, eh?”
“Your conversation made that pretty clear.”
“You a nurse?”
“Lucky guess.”
The man shifted in his seat and turned toward her, crossing his arms. “That explains the attitude.”
Maggie bristled. “What attitude?”
“The anti-doctor attitude. I can smell it.”
Crossing her arms to mirror his posture, Maggie looked him in the eye. “Did you ever think it might be the anti-obnoxious man attitude?”
The man flashed that infuriating grin of his. “You find me obnoxious? You don’t even know me.”
“And you don’t know me, so don’t make assumptions.” Maggie sat back in her chair and buried her face in her book just as the pilot announced that they’d reached ten thousand feet. Her seatmate reclined his seat and switched on his e-reader.
“You two sound like an old married couple,” her elderly neighbor mumbled.
“Hardly,” Maggie said under her breath. Trying to ignore her seatmate’s fidgeting, she immersed herself in her book. It wasn’t until she felt the older man’s head bounce on her right shoulder that she lifted her eyes. The flight attendants hadn’t even been by to take their drink orders. They were still working in the galley.
Wondering if he’d fallen asleep, Maggie stole a quick glance at the man’s face.
Shit!
She flipped the clasp on her seat belt and jumped to her feet. As she did so, the man fell forward at the waist. She yelled for the flight attendant as she worked to free the man from his seat belt.
“Fuck.” Her seatmate was beside her in a flash, helping her to lay the man down flat on his back in the aisle. “Get me your emergency kit,” he ordered in a soft voice to the flight attendant. “I’m a doctor, she’s a nurse.” He looked at Maggie. She had her hand on the man’s neck, feeling for a pulse.
“You get anything?”
Maggie shook her head. She leaned over and gave the man two quick breaths while her companion began chest compressions. The two alternated compressions and breathing while the flight attendant showed them the contents of the emergency kit. It contained epinephrine, generic Benadryl, and several sizes of airways.
“You have an Ambu bag?” Maggie asked the attendant.
He shook his head. “We have a small oxygen tank.”
“Won’t help,” said the doctor. “How about a portable defibrillator?”
A female flight attendant reached into a cabinet. “Here.” She tossed the portable defibrillator in Maggie’s direction.
Maggie opened the plastic package. She pulled out the contents.
“Christ,” the doctor muttered, ripping open the bag containing the electrodes, “I’ve never used one of these portable units.”
“Me neither,” said Maggie, “but I think it’s pretty simple. Just stick the electrodes on the chest and hit the button. If I remember correctly, the thing is programmed to give three shocks or check for a heartbeat after each shock—something like that.”
Working efficiently, the two of them soon had the defibrillator pads in place and the machine turned on.
“Clear,” the doctor said, and he pressed the button.
The man’s body jerked. The doctor looked at Maggie, and Maggie looked at the machine. “No heartbeat,” she said. The doctor was about to resume compressions. “No, wait. I think it will shock him again.” Both sat back on their heels and waited. The machine generated another shock. Still no heartbeat. A flight attendant knelt beside them.
“The pilot says we’re midway between Sacramento and Salt Lake City. He says Salt Lake City would be faster.” She kept her voice soft.
Maggie realized the other passengers were dead silent. She glanced over her shoulder. Everyone stared in their direction. She looked back at the elderly man. His face was dusky, his lips blue. As a hospice nurse, she’d seen enough death to know he was long gone. Maggie looked directly into her seatmate’s eyes and nodded her head just slightly. He got the message.
“Okay, yeah, Salt Lake City,” he said. He reached over and turned off the AED. “Let’s get this stuff off him and make him more presentable.” Together the two removed the pads and buttoned the man’s shirt. Maggie brushed the white hair from his forehead.
“Maybe we should put him in your seat,” whispered Maggie. “We can lean him against the window.” The doctor looked at her. She shrugged. “Well, we can’t leave him lying here in the aisle.”
“You do this often?”
“Um, actually I do. I’m a hospice nurse.”
He snorted and a corner of his mouth turned up. “I don’t like to lose patients.”
“He wasn’t your patient.”
After a pause, he said, “Yeah, but he died on my watch, so that makes him my patient. I’m responsible. I’m sure there’s family waiting for him in Denver, or wherever his destination is.”
Maggie heard real regret and sympathy in his voice. She laid a hand on his arm. “You’re not responsible. If anything, I’m responsible. I should have noticed what was happening, but I was too busy...”
“Too busy ignoring me?”
“Yes.”
Both Maggie and the doctor looked up as someone cleared his throat. The pilot stood in front of them. He crouched down to their eye level. “I’ve radioed ahead. We’ll be landing in Salt Lake City in twenty minutes or so and the paramedics will meet us at the gate. We’ll need to get him secured,” he gestured to the man on the floor of the plane, “and you’ll have to take your seats.”
Maggie did her best to screen the body as her seatmate and the pilot slid the dead man into the window seat and buckled his seat belt. The pilot thanked them before he returned to the cockpit to make the announcement.
“I’ll take the middle seat.”
“No.” Maggie shook her head. “I’m okay. I can sit there.”
“Not on your life,” he replied. “When we land, he’s going to flip forward and you aren’t strong enough to hold onto him. I’ll take the middle seat.”
Maggie ran a hand through her short curls. “Yeah, you’re right. Stupid of me.”
She heard static as the pilot’s voice came on in the cabin. “Ladies and gentlemen, as you all probably know by now, one of our passengers has fallen ill. Fortunately we do have a doctor and a nurse on board and they have the situation under control.” Maggie and her seatmate exchanged glances. “We’ll be making an unscheduled stop in Salt Lake City. I promise we’ll have you back in the air and on the way to Denver as quickly as possible. We’ve radioed ahead. Those of you who are connecting to another flight shouldn’t have any problem. I’ve turned on the
fasten seat belt
sign, as we’re beginning our descent. We apologize for the delay and we appreciate your patience and understanding.”
Maggie waited for her seatmate to arrange himself and fasten his seat belt before she sat down. She readjusted the seat belt, tightening it around her hips. “I feel kind of weird,” she blurted out.
The man looked at her. “Why? Because a man just died or because you’re sitting in his seat?”
“Both, and because he died leaning on my shoulder.”
“Well, better you than me. I would have assumed he was asleep and shoved him over into the aisle. It’s okay. You did the right thing and you stayed calm. So you’re a hospice nurse, huh?”
Maggie leaned down to pick her book up from the floor. “Yeah, I’ve been a hospice nurse for six years.”
“Six years? How old are you?”
Maggie laughed. She couldn’t help it. “Back to being rude, are you? You never ask a woman her age.”
He laughed too. “I only meant that you look too young to have been doing anything for six years. I’d guess twenty-four or twenty-five.”
“When I was twenty-four, I was a charge nurse in coronary care.”
“Ah,” he said with a grin, “so you’re thirty.”
“And you are a sneak. I don’t think we should be laughing when there’s a dead man in the seat next to you.” Maggie leaned back and closed her eyes.
“Why not?” His voice interrupted her thoughts. “I doubt he cares. He probably thinks it’s ironic.”
Maggie’s eyes flew open. “Hey, he had a broken hip, right? What do you want to bet he threw a big pulmonary embolus?”
The man tapped her temple with his index finger. “Smart girl.”
Maggie forgot to be irritated. “It happens.”
“Yes, I know.” He smiled at her and stuck out his hand. “We got off on the wrong foot. I’m Mace.”
“Mace?”
“Short for Mason. And you are?”
“Margaret Anderson, but everyone calls me Maggie.” She shook his hand.
The plane dipped lower and both glanced at their poor companion to make certain he remained balanced in his seat. “So, Miss Anderson, it is Miss, isn’t it?” Maggie nodded. “What’s in Minneapolis?”
“My sister. She just got engaged and I’m meeting her fiancé. We’re spending a day or two downtown, maybe we’ll go to a ballgame at the new stadium, and then we’re driving up north to the Boundary Waters. Her fiancé has a friend who wants to take us on a canoe trip.”
As Maggie watched, Mason raised his eyebrows. “And do you like canoeing?”
His tone sounded so professional that Maggie laughed. “Yes, I like canoeing, but I haven’t done it since college. I guess we’ll be out in the wilderness for four or five days, so it ought to be interesting. The canoeing part doesn’t bother me. It’s the sleeping on the ground part I’m not happy about.”
“You’ll have tents and sleeping pads, I assume?”
“Yes, but sleeping pads or no sleeping pads, I can’t sleep on the cold, hard ground. Puts my head at a funny angle and gives me a migraine.” Thinking of the cold, hard ground reminded Maggie of their cold companion. She glanced at Mace. “You don’t think they’ll make us get off in Salt Lake City, do you, to accompany him, I mean?”
“Don’t worry about it. If one of us has to stay with him, I’ll stay. I’m sure there’ll be a later flight.”