Free Grace Takes Off by Julie Hyzy Page A

rumble in his voice was low as he said,
     “Safe travels,” in English.
    He pivoted, easing back behind the wheel in barely the blink of an eye. He roared
     away from the airport as the cheery young woman with the bright red lips urged us
     forward. “Come along, please, we are nearing time to leave.”
    The plane was a little bigger than the one that had brought us to Europe. Because
     we weren’t flying commercial, there were no security lines to navigate and no boarding
     passes to obtain. The chipper young woman’s responsibility apparently ended at the
     tarmac where, under the afternoon sun, she handed us over to another blue-uniformed
     woman, who introduced herself as Evelyn.
    About forty years old, with dark hair pulled back in a tight bun and the hint of a
     New England accent, Evelyn came across like a self-assured corporate executive: bright-eyed,
     capable, and all business. I wondered if she was employed by the charter company or
     by SlickBlade.
    “I’ll be your flight attendant today,” Evelyn said. “Welcome. Your pilots will come
     to say hello before we take off, but for now please rest assured that your luggage
     is being taken care of, and all you need worry about now is relaxing on your flight
     home.”
    “Are the other passengers—those from SlickBlade—already here?” Bennett asked as she
     escorted us up the airstairs.
    “They have arrived,” she said, gesturing vaguely in the direction the plane was facing.
     “It seems they decided to add another passenger at the last minute.”
    She stepped into the fuselage, turning to face us as we crossed into the passenger
     seating area. “Wow,” Bennett said in an unusual expression of appreciation. “SlickBlade
     must do well for itself.”
    He wasn’t kidding. If I hadn’t known better I would have thought I’d stepped into
     someone’s living room instead of onto a plane. Soft music drifted around us as I took
     in the cream-colored cushy seats, teakwood tables, and curvy blue neon lights running
     along the plane’s center. A flat-screen TV took up one side wall, with a built-in
     cream colored sofa opposite.
    “Oh, you mean because of all this.” Evelyn circled a hand in the air. She winked at
     us. “It’s more like they have friends in high places.”
    Bennett and I exchanged a puzzled look as we made our way through the elegant space.
     Evelyn ran a hand along the back of one puffy leather headrest. “You’ll notice how
     far apart these are spaced?” She grabbed the top of the seat with both hands and swiveled
     it right then left. “Each goes all the way around and reclines fully so that passengers
     may sleep if they like—any direction they like. Here. . . .” She pointed to the control
     panel on the armrest. “Push a button and the lights dim, push another and I’ll come
     over to get you whatever it is you need, whether it be a pillow or to have your drink
     refreshed. My galleys are at the front and back.” She pointed. “All meals have been
     prepared by local chefs here in town, and I can guarantee they’ll be delicious.”
    “Sounds heavenly,” I said. “Do we choose where we want to sit, or are we assigned?”
    “I suggest you choose two together in the front, or if you prefer, the very back.
     That way you don’t split the group up. They tend to make use of the sofa and television,
     though I’m certain you’d be welcome to join them. Either way, there’s no doubt it
     will get cozy in here.”
    My preference would have been to take the back seats, but Bennett pointed to the two
     up front, on either side of the cabin. “These will do,” he said, lowering himself
     into one.
    I sat in the other. “So much for having a quiet conversation,” I said gesturing to
     the expanse between our seats. “We’ll have to shout to hear each other.”
    Evelyn brightened. “Oh no, this is an incredibly quiet plane,” she said. “Not only
     that, but look. . . .” She pulled at a recessed