The day after Christmas, my mom drove us all to the airport, me, Jackson, and Molly. Our bags had overflowed the trunk, and we had to shove one between me and Molly in the back seat, while we balanced our carry-on’s on our laps. I graciously gave Jackson the front seat to accommodate his long legs. Everyone was excited. For both Molly and Jackson it would be their first time on an airplane. I felt like a benevolent benefactor sitting in the back seat, soaking in their vibe.
We checked into the airport, waded through security, and hopped on to the small flight to El Paso. It was one of those narrow planes that only seated two on one side of the row and one on the other. Jackson and I sat together, with mom and Molly behind us. Poor Jackson looked so uncomfortable crammed into the
