As the rest of the crowd began to disperse, some continuing to give her sidelong looks and whispering, the man who had been kind enough to help her up off the floor began trying to collect the multitude of crap that had spilled from her tote far and wide all over the floor. Ready to die now, Eileen bent to her knees and swiped up several pens and, oh God, two tampons, and shoved them back into her bag.

When the man returned to her, he had a handful of loose papers, her sister’s book, the envelope of photographic evidence, and her cell phone. “Um, I think there’s someone on the line.”

Eileen took her phone from the man’s outstretched hands and saw her husband’s name and number on the screen. “Eileen? Eileen, what’s happening?” She remembered her phone ringing right before disaster struck. Obviously it had been Eric.

She couldn’t be drunk, have her shit spread all over the San Francisco airport, and deal with her lying, cheating, son of a bitch husband right now. Eileen made the only reasonable choice open to her and hung up the phone before switching the whole thing off. “Thank you,” she managed to say as she looked up into the man’s face and took the rest of her belongings from him.

She froze. She recognized him. From before her flight, at her table near the food court, the pictures of Eric and Lauren spread all over, and this man walking past bearing witness to the whole ugly scene. He had been on his Bluetooth headset, noticed her and the failure of her marriage on display, and had been kind enough to avert his eyes.

Not thinking it was physically possible, Eileen slipped a whole degradation level lower. She pursed her lips and repacked her tote.

The man stood up and looked around, as if to make sure she wouldn’t be verbally assaulted by any more of the passengers she had nearly killed trying to exit the escalator. “Are you going to be okay?” he asked her.

Incapable of speech, Eileen closed her eyes and nodded before standing upright and taking hold of her suitcase again.

The man nodded once, seeming uncertain of how to exit their uncomfortable social situation. “Okay,” he finally said and started to walk away.

Eileen breathed a sigh of relief, but the man only got five steps before he turned back around.

“I’m sorry,” he continued. “Are you sure you’re okay? It’s just, I’m pretty sure you’re having a really horrible day. I was on your flight out of Denver…across the aisle three rows up in first class.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, I know this is weird and completely none of my business, but we have met before. Your daughter is Paige, right? She plays soccer with my daughter, Kimmy.”

Of course she did.