Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32426 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 130(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32426 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 130(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Nate is oblivious. He’s focused on the carrier that he’s setting up. He quickly figures out the intricate buckle system then pats the seat.
I hesitate. It’s my first flight and even though I don’t think anything will go wrong, I still want to have him close.
He keeps his voice low so it doesn’t carry, “In the event of turbulence, the G-force will make it nearly impossible for you to hold onto him. Just because lap babies are allowed by airlines doesn’t mean it’s the safest option.”
I think about how I wouldn’t allow him to ride in Nate’s truck without a car seat, so it makes sense that I wouldn’t want to do the same thing on an airplane. I nod and place him in the new seat, being careful as I do. With his low muscle tone, Danny can be “floppy” and often needs extra support when I’m moving him.
“Thank you for the seat. I’ll pay you back for it and our tickets.” Even as I say the words, I have no idea how I’ll actually do that. Nothing prepared me for how expensive being a single mom is.
“It’s a Christmas gift,” he answers with a quick wink before he takes his seat, putting on his belt.
Danny starts crying as soon as takeoff begins. I pull out every toy I can to distract him, but he doesn’t stop. No matter how many funny faces I make or what I do. He goes on screaming for a solid twenty minutes.
“His ears must hurt,” I finally realize when nothing is working.
The elderly trio is still complaining about us, but I’m doing my best to ignore them. Surely, they were babies once. Hopefully, in a society that was kinder and more understanding than the one I’m raising my son in.
“Adults are supposed to chew gum. Maybe a bottle will help him?” Nate suggests. “Could work the same muscles.”
I try to offer Danny a bottle twice, but he won’t take it. He just keeps screaming. I even took him out of the carrier seat and inspected it for sharp pieces and any potential sensory issues. There’s nothing about the seat that should be bothering him.
“Maybe a lullaby will help,” Nate offers.
One of the elderly trio says something, but I can’t hear what it is over the sound of Danny’s wailing. Nate stiffens, his body tensing before he turns toward the other aisle.
In a loud voice, he says, “That’s my son. He’s little, and the world around him is big. He doesn’t know what’s happening or why his ears hurt. He’s not crying to annoy you. He’s crying because he’s scared and in pain, so you can fuck off.”
I reach across the seat to put my hand on his arm. No one has ever stood up for me or my son this way. I certainly didn’t expect to be defended by this handsome stranger.
He turns his attention to Danny who I’ve already buckled back into his seat. No matter what we do, he can’t seem to get comfortable.
“You cry as loud as you need to, little guy. I’m right here.”
A stewardess hurries up to our row, but whatever was said by the trio is not repeated. Probably because Nate glares at them, as if he’s daring them to speak up again.
Eventually, Danny quiets when Nate starts singing a soft lullaby. It’s some old song about a cowboy who loves his woman so much that he searches far and wide to bring her a bouquet of yellow Texas roses. Every time he stops singing, Danny breaks down in tears again, so he just keeps repeating the chorus again and again until his voice sounds raw.
After the three of us disembark, Nate rents a truck from the airport while we wait for Rudy. When the two of them reunite, Nate drops to his knees and smothers his big dog with affection and praise. It’s crazy that I’m standing in an airport, jealous of a dog who’s getting belly rubs from the big, burly cowboy.
I’m not sure how long the drive from the airport is. I offered to drive, but Nate shook his head. “You must be exhausted from traveling all day. Let me.”
He finally points to an exit sign. “There’s a tavern. We’re about an hour from the ranch. I thought you and Danny might like to freshen up and get some food in you.”
“I’m not hungry,” I tell him even though we’ve been traveling all day. Nate has gone out of his way to be kind to me, and I don’t want to take advantage of him. Someone with a heart like his has probably been used and treated poorly in the past. It’s always those with the biggest, kindest hearts that carry the most scars. “But Danny could use a bottle.”
He pulls off the interstate. “Come in with me. I hate eating alone.”