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a man being trapped in the lavatory?” I asked. “Why are they upset? They aren’t the ones in there!”

“They wanted us to continue to San Francisco. No regard for anyone but themselves and their own schedules.”

“He’s not responding to me,” I said, trying to remain calm and professional, not caring the least bit that people were upset their trip had been interrupted. “I think we better call in medical.”

She nodded and hurried back down the aisle just as the maintenance crew removed the door to reveal Sweaty Sam sitting on the closed toilet, completely passed out, his face as white as the rice I’d served earlier. We all stared at him a moment, and I figured everyone was as taken aback as I was.

“Is he dead?” Donna asked when Marsha returned. “He looks dead.” I didn’t argue. She wasn’t wrong.

Marsha moved in and placed her hand in front of his mouth. “He’s breathing.”

“Check his pulse,” Donna said.

My heart thundered as Marsha’s hand moved to Sam’s neck. Maybe I was the one who was going into cardiac arrest?

“His skin is clammy, but we have a pulse,” Marsha announced. At last, the two pilots rushed down the aisle toward us. We all sighed in relief. “Medical will be here in a minute,” Marsha continued, her voice calm and reassuring, which was why she was the head stew. “For now, I say we leave him right where he is until they get here. We don’t know how badly he got knocked around in there during the turbulence.”

The captains nodded in agreement.

A short period later, medical personnel arrived and maneuvered Sam out of the restroom and onto a stretcher. We gathered our things and followed them off. A man with a clipboard waited at the bottom of the stairs wearing a suit—obviously airline management. Going from cigarette smoke to the smell of airplane fuel made me cough, and I longed for some fresh air.

“This whole crew will be moving to Gate 3C and using the plane there to finish the flight to San Fran,” he said, his voice clipped. “Are we clear?”

The five of us nodded.

“Good. Run along now. We’re steering the passengers over that way as I speak. They need their crew to get the plane in the air.”

Thankfully, the flight from Utah to San Francisco went off without anyone being trapped in the lavatory, no overly drunk people, and only one screaming child. When I stepped off the plane, exhaustion roiled through me and I couldn’t wait to get home.

“Would you ladies like to grab a drink with us?” Large Larry asked. “I think we all deserve one after that New York flight.”

“Has anyone heard if Sam’s okay?” I asked. Going for cocktails was the last thing on my mind. I worried that our decision to leave him in the restroom had killed the poor man.

“No word at all, but hopefully they’ll let us know,” Marsha said. “And I for one would love a glass of wine.”

“Count me in, too,” Donna said.

I shook my head. “Not for me. I’m heading home.”

“Don’t be such a downer, Patty,” Donna said. “Come join us!”

“No, thank you. I’ll see you all sometime soon!”

I didn’t wait to be chided further. Instead, I grabbed my bag and hurried through the airport while dreaming of slipping off my girdle and curling up on the couch with Ringo. A blast of cool, damp air hit me as I exited the airport. I inhaled deeply, glancing up at the sky. Sprinkles of raindrops pelted my face and a chill ran down my spine as the cold took its grip. Finally, fresh air.

As I slid into the cab, I did wish Donna would have come home with me. The thought of going into our empty apartment alone gave me a case of the jitters. Would I find a murderer waiting for me? Or a cat that had peed on everything? And which would be worse?

How Donna kept up with her lifestyle, I’d never understand.

When the cab pulled in front of the apartment building, I paid and then exited. Our super, Mr. Killian, was planting flowers in the new planters installed outside the building. The pink and purple petunias really added a nice touch to the front entrance.

“They look wonderful, Mr. Killian!”

He rose to standing and grinned. “I think so, too. I only hope no one comes along and picks them. I’d hate to have all this work destroyed.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” I said. “People still respect others’ property.”

He placed his hands on his hips. “Tell that to those dang protestors. Where are you coming back from?”

“We started this morning in New York, then to Utah and here.”

“Busy day.”

I laughed and shook my head. “You have no idea, Mr. Killian. I can’t wait to get out of this uniform and relax for a bit.”

“Well, don’t let me stop you. Have a nice evening, little lady.”

Instead of trudging up the stairs, I waited patiently for the elevator. When the doors parted, I stepped inside, pressed the button to my floor, and leaned against the wall. The short ride seemed to take forever.

I pulled out the keys to my apartment as I exited the elevator. Just as I pushed open my door, Mrs. Wilson came out into the hallway carrying Ringo.

“Patty!” she exclaimed with a wide grin. “I was just going to fetch some food for this sweet prince.”

“Thank you so much,” I said as she handed the tabby off to me. “We felt awful about dropping him in your lap like that, but the call came in before dawn that we had to work. We had no notice and he doesn’t like being alone.”

“It was no trouble at all, dear. I was happy to help you out.” Ringo jumped from my arms and into the apartment, scurrying across the living room and into the bedroom. “So tell me about your travels.”

“Come on in,” I said, motioning for her to follow me. “Have I got a story for you!” I dropped my bags by

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