Terrence stood.
“Let's get you both home.”
They gathered their bags and headed toward the parking garage.
As they walked, Danielle glanced once more at Evelyn's card. The woman had written a brief note on the back:
Please tell Terrence that I would like to speak with him about my mother. I owe him an apology, too.
Danielle handed it to her husband.
He read the message, then tucked the card into his wallet.
“I'll call her,” he said.
“Do you want to?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Terrence looked at her.
“Because Margaret mattered to me. And because if Evelyn is finally ready to understand what happened, I think she deserves the truth.”
Danielle nodded.
“Just make sure she understands that what happened on the plane was not okay.”
“I will.”
They reached the car.
Terrence loaded the luggage into the trunk, then opened the rear door so Maya could climb into her seat. Danielle carefully secured the baby carrier and checked the straps.
When everyone was settled, Terrence started the engine.
The drive home took nearly half an hour. The city moved around them in a blur of traffic lights, highway signs, and morning commuters. Maya leaned against the window, watching the buildings pass.
After a while, she spoke.
“Dad?”
“Yes?”
“Would Colonel Whitmore have been mad at Evelyn for treating us that way?”
Terrence considered the question.
“I can't speak for her, but I think she would have been disappointed.”
“Why?”
“Because she believed leadership meant treating people fairly, especially when you had power over them.”
Maya thought about the woman in the burgundy suit.
“She acted like she owned the whole row.”
Terrence smiled slightly.
“She did not.”
“No.”
“And neither did we,” he added. “We simply had the seats we were assigned.”
Maya nodded.
“That's different.”
“It is.”
Danielle looked at her daughter through the rearview mirror.
“What did you learn from today?”
Maya was quiet for a moment.
“That if someone is being unfair, I should tell you. And if something belongs to someone else, I should return it.”
“Good.”
“And that people can be wrong even if they're grown-ups.”
Terrence laughed softly.
“Especially grown-ups.”
Maya smiled.
“And I learned that Dad knows important people.”
Danielle shook her head.
“Your father knows a lot of people. That doesn't make him more important than anyone else.”
Maya looked thoughtful.
“Then what makes someone important?”
Terrence glanced at Danielle, then answered.
“How they treat people when they don't have to.”