“While you’re defending your constitutional rights, can I ask you a favor?”

She makes a growling sound and her body turns toward me. That’s when the plane begins to taxi and she automatically reaches for my hand.

“Sir, I need you to adjust your seat.” The flight attendant takes away our glasses, and I make sure Claire has her seat belt on.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I just don’t like when the plane takes off or lands,” she says, clutching my hand unapologetically.

“What is this favor you need from me?”

“My sister is getting married.”

“What is it with people getting married, moving in together, and having children?” she asks a little annoyed.

“Do you have something against relationships?”

“I’m not a fan. My mom says it’s because I haven’t found the right guy.”

“You’re still young,” I reassure her. “How old are you? Twenty-five?”

“Almost twenty-nine,” she corrects me. “But that’s not the point of this conversation, is it?”

“Right, my sister is getting married and my family is expecting a plus one.”

Claire looks around and then at our entwined hands. “Clearly, you don’t have a plus one,” she says, snatching her hand away from mine. “Why don’t you just tell them she canceled?”

The plane pulls forward, and just as my chest feels the compression of the take-off, I notice Claire closing her eyes. I grab her hand and say comfortingly, “It’s okay. We’ll be up in the air soon.”

“I don’t like the feeling. It’s weird,” she says in a low voice.

“Why don’t I distract you with my proposition?”

She remains silent as I tell her about Mom and what transpired yesterday and again today.

“Why would you lie to your mother?” she asks, once I finish my explanation.

“You’ve never lied to your parents?”

She shakes her head and sighs. “Nope. They’re too intrusive, and Mom knows everything.”

The flight attendant walks, over asking what we’d like for lunch. After we order our food, I ask for wine for both of us.

“As you can see,” I say, “I need a date.”

She chugs the glass of wine as they deliver it and then takes mine. “I’m still trying to decide if this is a dream or a prank.”

“Easy with the wine,” I say while we adjust our trays so the flight attendant can place the food. ”It’s neither, by the way.”

“Don’t you get that this is my vacation?”

“Yes. I’m not asking you to work, only to attend a few events—as my girlfriend,” I clarify. “It’s just a brief appearance during the rehearsal dinner, brunch, and the wedding ceremony itself.”

“Am I not invited to the reception?” She gives me a mischievous glare and laughs. “Kidding. I don’t care much either way because I’m. Not. Going.”