Then she looked toward her mother's name on the passenger list.
LORRAINE ASHFORD — SEAT 1A.
Noelle stared.
For a moment, her eyes filled.
Then she approved the family itinerary through the ordinary booking process.
This time, the seat was reserved for the woman who had taught her why it mattered.
On the morning of Lorraine Ashford's retirement flight, Noelle arrived at the private terminal wearing the same emerald-green outfit she'd worn two years earlier.
The cropped designer blazer.
The beautiful ultra-wide-leg trousers.
The distinctive white waistband.
And the pointed heels that made her mother shake her head every time she saw them.
Lorraine stood beside the terminal entrance wearing a cream-colored linen pantsuit, comfortable shoes, and a small pearl necklace Noelle had given her for her sixtieth birthday.
She looked toward her daughter.
“Baby.”
Noelle smiled.
“Yes, Mama?”
“Do you ever wear anything that covers your entire waist?”
Noelle burst out laughing.
“Good morning to you too.”
Lorraine shook her head.
“You look like you spent a fortune on half a jacket.”
Noelle laughed harder.
“It was a full-price jacket.”
Her mother stared.
Then sighed dramatically.
“That's worse.”
For several seconds, they stood laughing beside the terminal doors.
Then Noelle took her mother's hand.
“Come on.”
Inside, the staff greeted them warmly.
The flight had been arranged as a private family journey, so there were no unfamiliar charter passengers waiting.
The crew had completed the required preparations.
The aircraft stood ready on the ramp.
And the terminal's glass windows offered a beautiful view of the white fuselage gleaming beneath the sunlight.
Lorraine looked toward it.
For a moment, she seemed emotional.
“That's one of yours?”
Noelle nodded.
“Through the company.”
Her mother smiled.
“You always make that distinction.”
Noelle laughed softly.
“Because the company has responsibilities beyond me.”
Lorraine studied her.
Then nodded.
“Your father would like hearing you say that.”
For a moment, Noelle's expression softened.
She looked toward the aircraft.
“I wish he were here.”
Lorraine squeezed her hand.
“So do I.”
They remained quiet for a moment.
Then a familiar voice approached from behind.
“Good morning, Ms. Ashford.”
Noelle turned.
Claire Bennett stood beside the terminal entrance wearing her burgundy flight attendant's uniform.
Her blonde hair was neatly arranged.
The white silk scarf rested against her collar.
And the expression on her face was relaxed in a way Noelle didn't remember seeing aboard the first Flight 907.
Noelle smiled.
“Claire.”
The attendant approached.
“It's good to see you.”