Our seats were toward the back.
Mason pressed his forehead to the window.
“Do you think Dad knows?”
“No chance.”
“What if I tell a flight attendant?”
“No, let’s not ruin the surprise.”
“One flight attendant?”
“Mason, no.”
He grinned and zipped his lips.
A few minutes later, the cabin door closed.
I helped him fasten his seat belt.
Then the speakers crackled.
Tyler’s voice filled the cabin.
Mason lit up.
His entire face changed.
“Mom,” he whispered. “That’s Dad.”
“I know.”
I took out my phone and started recording.
Tyler gave the usual welcome.
He mentioned the weather in Chicago and estimated the flight time.
He then made one of his corny jokes about getting us there before anyone could finish a bad airport sandwich.
Mason giggled.
Then Tyler paused.
Not the normal pause while checking a note or listening to someone in the cockpit. A long one.
When he spoke again, his voice was different.
“Actually, folks, before we push back, I’d like to say something a little unusual.”
I lowered my phone. Mason squeezed my hand.
Tyler continued. “There’s someone very special on board today. Someone who has changed my life in ways I didn’t expect.”
Mason turned toward me so fast his headphones slipped off.
“It’s me. I think he knows.”
For half a second, I thought the same thing.
My heart jumped.
I even started smiling.
Then Tyler said, “Laila, I know I’ve told you this privately, but I wanted to say it somewhere that means a lot to me, now that we’re finally ready to tell people.”
I stopped smiling. Mason looked confused.
Tyler continued. “You’re carrying our baby, and I can’t wait for the life we’re building together.”
I don’t remember breathing as my husband talked.
“I know the last few months have been complicated, but I can’t wait until I can call you my wife.”
I remember Mason looking at me.
I remember the woman across the aisle smiling like she was witnessing something romantic.
I remember my phone still recording in my hand.
And I remembered Laila.
Six months earlier, she’d knocked on our front door.
I had been working on a commissioned painting in the dining room when the bell rang.
She was standing outside crying.
Her mascara had run under both eyes.
“Is Tyler here?”
“No. He’s working.”
Her face fell. “I need to talk to him.”
“Who are you?”
