"She said no adult, no argument," Ruby added. "Daddy, please hurry."
Pearl leaned in before Ruby released the button. "And the man has your watch," she whispered. "I think it's the same one."
The message went through. A little circle spun on the screen, and the word DELIVERED appeared. Both girls stared at it as though they might force a reply into existence by looking hard enough.
For several moments there was nothing but announcements, sliding luggage, and the sound of the bathroom door. Pearl pulled her backpack closer. "What if he doesn't make it?" she asked.
"Then Mommy meets us," Ruby said. She repeated their father's instructions the way she had practiced them. "And the airline takes care of us. That's the plan for the plan."
She looked at the screen again and tried to believe that the plan still meant what it had meant yesterday. Pearl reached across the armrest and put her small hand over Ruby's. They had arrived in the world four minutes apart, and Ruby was determined not to let her sister feel alone, even though the same fear was sitting like a stone in her own stomach.
The man assigned to seat 26C arrived while Ruby was still watching the little screen. He moved carefully down the aisle, leaning on a polished wooden cane, a brown paper bag tucked beneath his arm. White hair stood up around the edges of his cap, and thick glasses magnified eyes that seemed accustomed to looking closely at things other people missed. He checked the number above the seat, then smiled at the twins.
"Well, now," he said. "Unless I'm very much mistaken, twenty-six C belongs to Walter Finch. But if you've got a cousin coming, I can negotiate."
Ruby shook her head. "It's yours, sir."
"And good manners already," he said. "What a pleasant surprise."
He lowered himself into the aisle seat with a quiet grunt and arranged his cane between his knees. As he folded the paper bag, he noticed the glittering badges pinned to the girls' dresses. "Birthday girl, birthday girl," he read. "Now, what are the chances of that?"
"We're twins," Pearl explained.
"Nine today," Ruby added. "I'm older."
"By four minutes," Pearl said promptly.
Walter considered that solemnly. "Four minutes can be a long time if you're waiting for a train," he said. "I suppose it qualifies you for seniority. Happy birthday, both of you."
He shook their hands as though meeting two new colleagues. Then he looked at their slumped shoulders and the untouched excitement that still clung to their party clothes. "May I ask why two birthday girls have been put in the very last row beside a bathroom? I would have thought you'd won better seats for the occasion."
"We did," Ruby replied. "We had first class, but they gave our seats away."
Walter sat very still. "Gave them away? To whom?"
"A rich man and his wife," Pearl answered. "They had champagne. The lady said they needed our seats and that we had to come back here because Daddy wasn't there."