Paper Moon Read Free Page B

Mom,” Annie called through the crack between the seats in front of them. “It’s going to be okay. We prayed, remember?”
    Prayer or not, Caroline Spencer left the safety sheet in her lap and hung on to the seat arms with a death grip as the pilot released the brakes, launching them forward with a jerk.
    Blaine resorted to distraction to help her along. “Be careful not to hit the window switch on the side there.” He nodded at the seat reclining button just shy of the woman’s bloodless fingers. “If you open that window during takeoff, the ladies behind us will get a new hairdo.”
    Caroline stared at him as if he’d grown horns. He watched her slowly process his warning in the liquid green of her gaze. The corners of her mouth twitched with uncertainty. Once . . . twice . . . bull’s-eye. As the plane lifted off, pressing the passengers against the upright seat backs, she laughed hysterically, although Blaine imagined it was more of a release of tension than genuine amusement.
    By the time they leveled off above a layer of white, sun-dashed clouds, her knuckles were no longer white, nor were her fingers anywhere near the seat release.
    â€œI don’t know whether to thank you or smack you,” she said, letting out the last breath she’d tried to hold throughout the takeoff. “I—” A loud hiccup cut her off. Startled, Caroline placed a hand over her chest. “Now look what you’ve— hic— oh, rats!”
    â€œMom,” Annie exclaimed in a mortified voice. “They can hear you all over the plane.”
    â€œIt’s not like I can— hic —help it.”
    â€œI could try to scare you.” Blaine pinched his cheeks between his teeth so as not to laugh outright. Each time her breath caught, her curls bounced.
    â€œYou scared me into them, thank— hic— you.” She slanted an accusing look at him. “Window switch indeed.”
    â€œSorry.” He was trying not to laugh. The realization tripped his train of thought. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d even been inclined to laugh. “I had to do something to distract you before you bent the arm rest.”
    â€œNo you di— hic— dn’t.”
    â€œMom, puh-leeze.”
    Karen chimed in with her friend. “Why don’t you two act your age?”
    Blaine met Caroline’s startled, stricken look with one of his own.
    â€œWhat is —hic— wrong with this picture?”
    The tension from the rushed contract presentation in Toronto (had he forgotten any details?), worry about his mom, the airport hustle and shuffle from Toronto to Philly, and the less-than-gracious reward for the “juggling of his schedule” unraveled. Blaine dissolved into laughter with his gullible companion. If there was any merit to the Reader’s Digest claim that laughter is the best medicine, he might actually be able to skip the melatonin his holistic guru of a secretary had given him. Maybe this break from routine was just what he needed.
    The image of the pink pom-pom lady flashed through his mind—her kind smile and words. Take a look and take a breather.
    Blaine rifled through his jacket and withdrew the pink slip of paper she’d passed on to him. Unless the Lord builds the house, its builders labor in vain. Unless the Lord watches over the city, the watchmen stand guard in vain. In vain you rise early and stay up late, toiling for food to eat, for he grants sleep to those he loves. Psalm 127:1–2.
    A mental whoa lifted the hair on Blaine’s arms and the back of his neck. Not that he believed in this kind of spiritual thing.
    Take some time out for yourself. Neta Madison’s words echoed in his ear.
    Blaine stared, no longer seeing, at the pink slip of paper. The stranger, the verse, and his mom—three strikes were hard to ignore. And spiritual aspect aside, there was some wisdom in the tract. Work