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voice.
    â€œSure you didn’t.”
    Pete looked at me. His eyes went wide. “They forgot to turn off the mic,” he said.
    The cabin went quiet. The drunken guys stopped hollering. Absolutely everyone was focused on the drama beyond the cockpit door.
    â€œI’ll bet you take your wife to the Biltmore. I bet you’ve stayed there lots of times with her.”
    â€œCharlene, I told you. We don’t have sex anymore.”
    â€œYou don’t have sex with me anymore either! Who’s the new one, Frank? Who is she? That slag from United? The one with the fake boobs?”
    â€œStop whacking me! Cut that out. Godamnit, I’m the captain!”
    The silence in the cabin turned to chortles and gasps. Someone started to choke. Pete was doing that silent laughter thing while his whole face went red.
    â€œMother was right!” Sob! “Never date a pilot. Why didn’t I listen?”
    The cockpit door flung open, and a distraught flight attendant lurched down the aisle. She was pretty in an Anne Hathaway kind of way and would have been quite attractive if she hadn’t been sniffling and muttering.
    With a start, she seemed to realize where she was. She straightened. Her hand went to smooth down her skirt, and her face set to a professional smile.
    She paused two rows ahead of us. Then a glint came to her eye. Her hand reached for a can of pop on someone’s tray. She turned, went back through the door to the cockpit and raised the pop can.
    I was at just the right angle to see her dump it all over his head.
    â€œWhat the fuck?” the captain yelled.
    Then she marched back through the cabin, turned and plunked her butt down in the empty aisle seat in front of us.
    The middle-aged woman in the next seat patted her on the arm. “There, there, dear,” she said. “Men are beasts, I tell you. Beasts! I should know—I married six of them.”
    Pete was close to expiring now. Tears were rolling down his face, and he was wheezing badly. I was really starting to worry.
    â€œChrist,” he said, “what more can happen now?”
    CLUNK.
    BANG.
    WHOOSH.
    â€œWhat the hell was that ?” Pete yelled.
    There was another clunk from the underbelly of the plane, and more screams. Then the plane started to dive.
    â€œHoly mother of god!” Pete grabbed for me.
    Lights flashed. The oxygen masks came down. More screaming.
    â€œPut this on.” He reached for one and shoved it on my face. “Don’t argue!”
    I wasn’t arguing. I was all for oxygen at a time like this.
    Lights went out completely. One flight attendant fell flat on the floor. Miss Motel 5 was lurching around the aisle holding on to seat backs.
    â€œFrank, if you kill us, so help me God, I will cut your heart out!” she howled.
    â€œKind of redundant,” Pete muttered through his mask. He held me as close as a person could be held.
    One of the nuns started singing “Ave Maria.” A few of the drunken sports-jersey guys joined in. I hoped God wasn’t listening. It wouldn’t help our chances.
    The plane leveled off, and the lights came on.
    â€œJust a spot of turbulence,” came the voice over the pa system. It sounded reassuring. “Sorry about that, people. All flight attendants to the cockpit, please.”
    â€œI’ll cockpit your cock!” yelled Miss Motel 5.
    Pete relaxed his grip, then stared at me.
    â€œDo you ever have a normal day?”

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    I called home as soon as we landed.
    â€œSammy. You have no idea how good it is to hear your voice.”
    â€œFrig—Gina? Where the hell are you? Vinnie’s having a crap. You’re not in Toronto. We checked.”
    I didn’t ask how they checked. They have ways.
    â€œArizona. Phoenix. Nice place. Hot. You’d like it.”
    More cursing.
    â€œThe shoes?”
    â€œThey’re here.”
    â€œOkay, I’m sending someone down. She might need a little