He stared at it.
Then he turned it over.
His face changed.
He looked at me.
“Did Daniel give this to your grandson?”
I stopped breathing for a second.
Daniel had been gone almost eight years.
“Daniel was my husband.”
The captain looked at Benjamin.
“Did he give you this?”
Benjamin glanced at me.
I answered for him.
“He couldn’t have. Daniel died before Benjamin was born.”
Something in the captain’s expression fell.
“I’m sorry.”
“How did you know his name?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, he rubbed his thumb gently along one chipped wing.
Then he asked, “So Daniel never told you what this airplane meant?”
I stared at him.
“What do you mean?”
The plane shifted again beneath us.
The captain glanced toward the cockpit.
“I need to get back up front.”
“You knew my husband?”
He handed the toy to me.
“He trained me.”
Before I could ask another question, he added, “Please don’t put that away. I’d like to see it again.”
