He had a more than typical phobic personality. He feared flying most of all. Yet here he was - on a plane - already in midair.

He also feared blood. It was a disgusting part of being human. The blood beneath his veins sickened him. Yet he had just been covered with blood hours ago.

There were many things to fear now. Many rational things to fear. He could barely stand the panic that rushed through him, almost instantly. Thankfully, he'd let his son take another flight. Rickie shouldn't see him like this. It was the last thing the boy should have to worry about. The thought that Rickie might be angry with him, worsened the panic in David.

His hands started to shake, sweat permeated uncontrollably, his bottom lip quivered and he clamped his eyes shut – hoping the fear would pass.

He was sitting with two women in the spacious part of the plane, where four seats face each other. The young woman beside him continued her conversation with an older woman across.

"I just don't understand men. Why some of them don't want kids. I think Seth felt tied down, and really, maybe he didn't want to be tied to me forever either." She grabbed at her forehead, "All I wanted was a little boy or girl. I'm getting too old - and how hard it will be to find another man? A man I'm compatible with - one who really takes me seriously. It took years to find Seth, and now I know he wasn't even the right one. What should I do?"

The old woman glanced up, tired and grumpy. "I gave up on the same thing years ago. Love isn't like it is in the movies – so stop looking for the right or perfect one, and just settle with the best that comes along.”

Thirty-year old Grace rolled her eyes and groaned. "Thanks for the input. Your advice has really inspired me."

The old woman chuckles, "Inspires you? For what?"

"To just jump off a building already."

"Ha! Take my real advice girl, you don't need a man to raise a family. Just adopt on your own."

"Yeah...but, I don’t want a fatherless child.”

David made a small, disturbing noise. Grace and the old woman looked over at him and noticed his fists clinging to the arms of his chair, and his face scrunched up in a terrified panic.

Grace made a motion to reach out to him, but instead stretched her arm over to the buttons at the top of their heads, and called for a flight attendant. A stewardess came striding up and noticed the afflicted man.

"What's wrong with him?"

Grace shrugged, "I think he's scared of flying, that's all I can guess."

"Here." The flight attendant reached into a seat pocket and handed Grace a paper bag. "Have him breath in that."

Grace stared at her nervously and slowly brought the bag towards David's mouth. His arm swung up and he snatched it from her startled hands.

His breathing became harsher and nosier with the bag as a filter.

Grace leaned towards him, "Are you going to be ok, sir?"

He quickly nodded.

The stewardess retreated to find a bottle of water.

David calmed and took a sip. The bag no longer blocked his face, and Grace patted his shoulder.

"Looks like we all have something to worry about."

David smiled, "Thank you for helping. I'm sorry if I scared you."

Grace shook her head, "Are you going to be ok, the rest of the flight?"

David shrugged, "I'll try."

"Well unless this plane crashes, we'll be right here! Ha ha, sorry, bad joke."

David laughed nervously, "It's ok."

"You might want to think before you speak," the old woman suggested and smiled, "you remind me of my daughter-in-law. We could never get along because of her blunt outbursts when she wasn't thinking."

Grace shrugged, the older people got, the more honest they seemed to be. This old woman was a little rude in her analysis, but Grace felt that it was a blessing to be upfront. So much destruction could develop from misunderstandings because one wants to be considerate. She wished her husband hadn't tossed her in circles when he tried to explain why he didn't want to be with her. A lot of pain could've been avoided. And maybe they would still be friends. But to say he was to blame would not be accurate. Perhaps it had been the classic selective hearing. Grace, in her insecurity of surviving a new life - one in which she had to search again for the comfort Seth had given her - did not want to hear his truth. His actual disappearing love for her. She accused him of cold feet, of fear to commit...but it was obvious Seth was not making an excuse for a feeling he didn't know how to interpret. The passion had literally dissipated.

The old woman looked at Grace quizzically, “Did I offend you?”

Grace woke from her trance, “Oh no, I was just thinking…that I’m glad you’re honest. I’ve come to appreciate it as a high virtue.”

“hmm…that’s good dear,” the woman opened her rather large purse and pulled out a CD player. “My granddaughter told me to listen to this on the flight, I don’t know how these darn things work though,” she fiddled with the buttons – a puzzled look on her face.

David reached over and extended his hand, “May I help you with that?”

“You certainly may,” the old woman laughed and pushed it into his hands. “I know I should keep up to date with all these things; Computers and such. But I’ve never found an interest in it. People say technology makes things easier, but it makes it harder for a person like me to understand.”

David set up the headphones and the volume; he pressed the play button to make sure it was working. Beautiful, strange music filled his mind and he became so intrigued he forgot the woman and her impatient stare. He closed his eyes and seemed to see a different world – like traveling through a dark space nearing a blinding swirling of colorful gas and stars; all the fear that was beating down inside of him became part of the darkness.

Grace caught the old woman’s glance, and shrugged. She turned to David and nudged him in the shoulder. He ignored her for a moment as a guitar solo began and she nudged him a little harder. Slowly, David opened his eyes and stopped the music.

He handed the CD player back to the woman and smiled, “That is amazing music, how old is your granddaughter? She has impeccable taste.”

The old woman shrugged, “She’s twenty-three, and this is her own music that she records in her home studio. She does all the instruments. I’ve never heard her music before, and you’ve made me anxious to listen.”

David was struck, “She recorded this, composed this all alone? It’s fascinating and really, I have to say it sounds a little sad – the music I mean. Does she have a record-deal? Is she looking for one? Why haven’t you ever heard her music, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Grace glanced back and forth between the two, sure she was missing something.

“You sure have a lot of questions. As far as I know, she has not tried to publish any of it, and I’ve never heard it because I was out of touch with the family until recently, I’d rather not get into that.”

David shook his head, “I’m sorry for asking. But you know, I would like to get in touch with this woman, I work with a lot of record companies, as an entertainment attorney, but I’ve always wanted to scout people. I’d like to recommend her to a label.”

Grace smiled, happy she could understand something and grace the two with her input, “What a great opportunity for your granddaughter! It must be God’s work that you two ended up on the same flight. By the way, wouldn’t it be good if you gave her your card?”

David laughed, “Yah, I guess that would be more of a sensible start.” He fumbled through the pockets inside his coat. “Ah, here it is.” He extended the card to the old woman but Grace intervened and asked to look at it first. David handed it to her shyly.

“Hmm...Dr. Quincy – synthetic hair specialist…”

“What?!” David’s face turns red.

Grace laughs, “I was just joking! What, do you really go to a synthetic hair specialist?”

“No,” he laughs.

“So your name is David Kendell? It’s nice. And…” she gave the business card to the old woman, “I haven’t even asked your name.”

“Oh,” the old woman sighs, “It’s just plain Barbara.”

Grace smiles, “Well it’s a good name. Mine’s Grace. But anyway, I guess we got side-tracked; back to what you guys were talking about.”

David smiled, “Nice to meet you Grace.”

“Same here!” She grinned.

“Well anyway, Barbara,” David continues, “I just think your granddaughter’s songwriting and production skills are on par with the major labels I’ve represented.”

The old woman looked searchingly at him, “I’ll have to ask her first, I can call her after the flight, but right now, I want to hear this music you’re ranting on about.”

David nodded, “Just press that button right there, and over here is the volume,” he pointed to the side, “you can skip to the next song with this button.”

“Thank you.” She started the CD and relaxed in her chair. Grace picked up the mystery novel that had been lying on her lap since she started talking to the old woman.

David closely studied the expression of the grandmother.

The old woman seemed to David a little expressionless at first, than slightly angered. A mixture of emotions swept, one after another, on her face, until finally she started to cry. She cried silently and Grace didn’t take notice. David looked away to the window next to him. The music had calmed him, there had been something in that guitar that sounded like a person. Like the heart of a person, sympathizing and maybe trying to replace – the heart that had been torn out of him.