I glanced at my seatmate.
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“Would you mind blocking his view if he wakes up?”
Her eyebrows shot upward.
“Why?”
I leaned toward her and quietly explained what I had in mind. She covered her mouth, trying not to laugh.
“Oh, you’re actually doing that? You’re my queen,” she whispered, winking at me.
The man was snoring. She leaned closer.
“By the way, I’m Diane,” she whispered.
“Rebecca.”
“Well, Rebecca, this is officially the most entertaining flight I’ve ever taken.”
He remained oblivious.
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“Just promise you’ll warn me if he wakes up.”
Diane nodded gravely.
“Consider me your lookout.”
I reached beneath the seat ahead of me, retrieved my carry-on, and eased the zipper open.
I’d been away for five days on business, and my eight-year-old daughter, Megan, was expecting a special present. She adored Barbie and just about anything pink. A Barbie-themed beauty kit in a gift shop was the perfect choice.
