“I’m six-foot-three. Where exactly am I supposed to put my legs?”
I looked at him.
“Preferably in the space you paid for.”
He smirked.
“If you’re not using that room, why does it matter?”
I took a breath.
“Because I am using it.”
He shook his head and put his earbud back in.
Apparently, as far as he was concerned, the conversation was over.
I tried crossing my ankles.
His shoe blocked me.
I attempted to rest one leg at an angle.
That made my hip hurt worse.
Finally, I folded my sweater and tucked it beside me for support.
For a few minutes, that helped.
Then Josh shifted again.
I closed my eyes.
“Lord, give me patience,” I whispered.
Henry glanced over the top of his paperback.
“Everything all right over there?”
I forced a smile.
“Just trying to get comfortable.”
His eyes moved toward Josh’s legs.
I could tell he’d noticed.
Part of me was relieved.
Another part felt embarrassed.
I didn’t want to become the center of attention.
I didn’t want an argument.
All I wanted was to sit in the seat I’d purchased and arrive in one piece.
***
During beverage service, I ordered ginger ale.
When I tried lowering my tray table, Josh’s elbow was in the way.
“Excuse me,” I said. “I need to put my drink down.”
He barely shifted.
I waited.
Then tried again.
“Josh, could you give me enough room to use my tray?”
He pulled out an earbud and sighed dramatically.
“Seriously?”
I blinked.
“I’d just like to lower my tray table.”
He rolled his eyes.
“You women can turn absolutely anything into a problem.”
I stared at him.
“Wanting to put down a drink isn’t exactly an unreasonable request.”
“Then stop making such a fuss about it.”
The flight attendant stood beside us holding my ginger ale.
I could feel other passengers nearby listening.
So instead of answering, I smiled at her.
“Thank you.”
I accepted the cup.
And held it in my hand until Josh finally decided to move his elbow.
I hated how small the situation made me feel.
Not because I was physically small.
But because I’d allowed a stranger to make me feel unreasonable for asking for something basic.
Steven would have known exactly what to say.
He’d probably have made one dry remark that left Josh speechless.
I smiled faintly at the thought.
Then Josh stretched his leg again.
His knee pressed against mine.
I looked at the flight information displayed on the screen.
We weren’t even halfway through the journey.
I could hardly believe it.
A short while later, the flight attendant returned to collect our empty cups.
She paused beside our row.
“Ma’am, is everything okay?”
I looked at her.
Then at Josh.
He’d removed one earbud and was watching me closely.
This was my opportunity.
I could explain that he had repeatedly pushed into my seat.
I could tell her my hip was hurting.
I could ask for help.
Instead, I gave my usual automatic response.
“Yes, thank you. Everything’s fine.”
The attendant smiled politely and moved on.
Josh replaced his earbud.
And within seconds, his knee was touching mine again.
I wanted to kick myself.
Why hadn’t I spoken up?
Because I hated confrontations.
Because I didn’t want strangers staring.
Because I’d spent decades believing that being kind meant tolerating discomfort rather than inconveniencing someone else.
I looked down at my book.
I’d read the same paragraph so many times that I could almost recite it.
But I still had no idea what was happening in the story.
I pulled out my phone and opened the newest photograph of Rose.
Marianne had sent another picture of her sleeping in that enormous knitted hat.
My expression softened.
I was traveling all this way to meet my granddaughter.
I wanted to arrive happy.
Excited.
Ready to hold her.
Not exhausted and limping through the airport because I’d spent hours twisted against an airplane window.
I looked toward Josh’s leg.
“Josh, I’m going to ask you one more time. Would you please keep your leg on your side?”
He pulled off his headphones.
“Lady, haven’t we already discussed this?”
“Yes. And nothing has changed.”
“I’m tall. What do you expect me to do about it?”
“Move your knee.”
He laughed dismissively.
Then turned away.
For several seconds, I stared at him.
Then I pressed the flight attendant call button.
Josh noticed.
He looked up at the illuminated light.
And suddenly, I felt that old hesitation returning.
My finger hovered near the button.
I almost canceled the request.
But this time, I left it on.
Before the attendant arrived, Josh finally pulled his leg away.
“There. Happy now?”
I didn’t answer.
When the attendant reached our row, I lost my nerve again.
Instead of explaining the situation, I asked for water.
She brought me a cup.
I thanked her.
Then sat there feeling disappointed in myself.
Within minutes, Josh’s leg was back against mine.
***
Nearly four hours after takeoff, Josh finally removed his headphones and unfastened his seat belt.
“Bathroom,” he announced.
Henry stood to let him pass.
I watched Josh disappear down the aisle.
Then, for the first time in hours, I stretched my legs.
The relief was immediate.
I could straighten both knees.
I could sit without twisting my hip.
I could finally move my shoulder away from the window.
“Oh, thank goodness,” I murmured.
Henry looked over.
I smiled weakly.
“You have no idea how good that feels.”
He glanced toward Josh’s empty seat.
“I think I have some idea.”
I looked at the space beside me.
Then I remembered something Josh had said earlier.
*If you’re not using the space, what’s the problem?*
Well, perhaps he could have as much room as he wanted.
But he wasn’t going to get it by taking mine anymore.
I spotted the flight attendant approaching from the rear of the cabin.
I raised my hand.
