“Sir, your friend needs to put her seat belt on.""As much as I like a lovely girl leaning on my shoulder," a lilting voice whispered near my ear, "I think you might want to listen to the flight attendant.”

“You really have no idea, do you?”“No idea about what?” “How thoroughly you own me, Nightie Girl,” he said, leaning in to whisper this part in my ear. “And I know I love you enough to want you to have your happy ending.”

“I wanted to say, with as much sarcasm as I could put into my voice, "Sir, your poem is both original and interesting, but the part that is interesting is not original, and the part that is original is not interesting." But all I said was, "Not bad, you need to work on it some more.”

“As she released his hand and sat down in her seat he moved her hair back behind her shoulder and whispered in her ear, “I love that dress. I love the shoes. I love everything. You look sensational...”

“I think, uh, I might be in love with you," I said, my voice sounding gruff and awkward even to my own ears.”

“I looked at Mommy but quickly shook my head. "I don't want to miss her."Becky put her soft, warm hand on my shoulder, just like Mommy used to when I was upset. "Your mom wants to be here with you. She wants that very much. But Jesus wants her with him right now."I frowned. "I need her more than Jesus does.”