He looked miserable.
“I was showing off. I saw the rank, but I thought—”
He stopped.
“What did you think?”
“That you looked too young. And I guess…”
He looked at Mason, then back at me.
“I guess you did not look like the officers I pictured.”
There it was.
Not a complicated motive.
A stereotype with enough confidence to become behavior.
“I am thirty-eight,” I said.
His face turned even redder.
“I know that does not help.”
“It does not.”
He nodded.
“I am sorry.”
“Apology accepted. Consequence remains.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He returned to his seat.
An hour later, our flight was delayed.
Of course it was.
Carter and his friends stayed near the gate. The easy joking was gone. Mason read something on his phone. Lewis bought coffee for all three.
At one point, the tired mother across the aisle leaned toward me.
“I am glad you said the part about rank not being the reason it was wrong.”
I looked at her.
She nodded toward her daughter, sleeping against her arm.
“People teach girls they have to become important before disrespect counts.”
The sentence stayed with me.
When boarding finally began, General Shaw and I were called early because of our tickets. I remained seated until the family with the two sleeping children got organized.
Carter noticed.
