A Change of Plans

Chapter 4 from Jackson's POV

I take another subtle glance at Avery, opening my mouth, only to bite my lip. She looks miserable, but I know better than to try and talk to her. I know she's upset, and there sure as heck anything I can do right now to change that, mainly because I'm the reason she's upset. However, I am glad I was here for the panic attack. I know how bad those can get. I turn away from her, towards the aisle, trying to think of something to say that won't result in my leaving the plane via body bag. I turn to her, opening my mouth, when I see her small frame shudder and her try to hide it. Trying not to crack up, with the most sincerity I can muster, I ask-

"Cold?"

She shakes her head vigorously, trying to avoid conversation, but she begins to shiver with such intensity that it's obvious she's lying. Unable to keep the grin off my face, I shake my head and unzip my jacket, wrapping it around her shoulders.

She reaches to take it off, but knowing Avery much better than that and having anticipated that, I quickly reach over and zip it part of the way up.

"Think of it as a peace offering Avery. Just wear the jacket."

She opens her mouth to object, but I give her what she always called the "Look of Finality".

'I doubt she remembers that,' my thoughts whisper, and my heart sinks a little.

She rolls her eyes with a sigh, letting me know that I won, puts her arms through the sleeves, and zips it the rest of the way. After a second, I think she says thank you, but it's so quiet, I wonder if she meant for me to hear it at all. The silence that follows is like an elephant in the plane- heavy, awkward, and unwanted. I wrack my brain, trying to come up with something- anything- to say. 

"So Ms. Thompson," I say in my best waiter voice, eyes closed with a grin after what feels like hours, but I know has just been seconds, "what on earth brought you to Seattle during this time of year?"

Avery says nothing. After a few seconds, suddenly worried, I open my eyes, all traces of smile gone. She couldn't be engaged. My eyes fly to her hands, and her left is covered by her right. Could she? I feel the panic rising in my throat, and breathing suddenly becomes very, very difficult.

"Aves?" My voice is barely above a whisper, trying not to cry, or scream.

'You're too la-ate,' my thoughts sing, spiting me.

Avery looks uncomfortable, but raises her hand so it's in my face. Her fingers are ring free. She moves her hand around like she used to when she imitated Beyoncé, and gives me a weary smile.

"Nope."

I breathe out the breath I didn't realize I was holding, and close my eyes, leaning back onto the seat. She shifts toward the window, and suddenly I feel very alone. I just want to reach out and put my arms around her, inhale the smell of her that I've missed so much. My thoughts stretch back to high school. Junior year, to be exact.

We had been on the way home from a tennis tournament, her on the inside, me in the aisle. It was about this time of night. Er- morning. I sigh and smile a bit at the memory. She fell asleep in my arms and I was perfectly happy to keep her there until she woke up. When she did wake up, she had the most adorable, sleepy smile on her face. I asked what was so funny, and she whispered back, "you're going to be the best dad ever," and fell back asleep.