Owen pulled a pack of gum from his pocket. He carried some with him when he traveled to make his ears pop on takeoff and landing, but the coffee was lousy and had soured on his tongue. He extended the pack to her.

“Would you like a piece, Ann?”

“Ann? It’s Charlie.”

“Sorry. Right. Charlie.” Owen had been told he had a charming smile, but he wasn’t quite sure how he managed it. “You remind me of an Ann.”

She smiled back, then shielded her mouth with her fingertips. “Do I need gum?”

“No, no. I was only going to have some and didn’t want to be rude. Because I’m going to have to be rude now.” Owen uncoiled the white cord of his earphones. “I have a program to listen to.”

“Oh.” Her face fell into a pout. “Sure.”

“It’s just a work thing.” He twisted the earbuds into his ears. “I need to have this done by the time we land. But it was nice chatting with you.”

“Okay. Thanks. You, too.”

As always, Owen mimed tapping up something on his screen, but he really just opened and closed a couple of apps and slid the silent phone back into his pocket. He never actually listened to anything. He merely enjoyed the peace in those times when the earphones worked as pest control.

CharlieAnn lasted another ten minutes or so, flipping through the catalog from the seat pocket.

She gave him a nudge. He popped out his right earbud and held it in his closed fist so she couldn’t hear all the nothing coming out of it.

“Can you believe they charge sixteen dollars for Wi-Fi? I mean, I didn’t even know you could get internet on an airplane. That’s great. I love it! But sixteen dollars? After what I paid for this flight?”

Owen pressed his lips together and nodded in what he hoped looked like sympathy. He didn’t care if she felt validated, but it seemed a better gamble at getting her to shut up than making a case for $16 Wi-Fi or calling her a cheap, pointless waste of breath and skin.

She drew her shoulders up in a little shiver of naughty glee. “I think I’m going to splurge,” she announced again.

“Go for it,” he said, and worked his earpiece back into place.

For sleeping, Owen preferred dark rooms, no company, and a locked door. He almost never slept on planes. But he was nearly there. He’d drifted numb and weightless, with a dream just ahead, something bright and good, something he wanted to see—

She tapped him excitedly on the elbow and he crashed back into reality. His body jerked against the seat and he swallowed past a nap-dried throat.

“Oh! I’m sorry! I didn’t know you were sleeping. I thought you were just listening.”