“Do you want a Xanax?”
“Are you going to have a drink?” I asked, as I crammed the stack of gossip magazines I’d bought for the flight in the seat pocket in front of me.
“I don’t think so.”
“I don’t know,” he said and shrugged. And then he leaned down to The Cat’s carrier at his feet and unzipped the secret opening where he could pet her undetected.
“Oh my god,” I said. “You don’t want to be out of it in case she freaks out!”
He smiled. “I just want to be prepared. For anything.”
And I knew in that moment that he meant not only The Cat, but me, and my reaction to this trip.
“You are the best man,” I said.