other bearing a glittery purple heart. I slipped them onto his toes, trying to keep my hands steady as Diane watched in delighted disbelief.
“I cannot believe he’s sleeping through this,” Diane whispered.
“Apparently, his feet are more considerate when he’s unconscious.”
At that precise moment, he stirred. Both of us went still. He scratched his nose, mumbled, turned toward the window, and resumed snoring.
Diane clapped her hands over her mouth. I closed the nail-polish bottle, returned the remaining gifts to my bag, and leaned back to admire my work.
Five bright pink toenails and two sparkling rings. It was magnificent.
When would he notice? The thought of him walking through the cabin like that almost made me laugh before anything had even happened.
Roughly forty minutes later, he woke, stretched, and took off his headphones. Then he stood to use the restroom, apparently deciding shoes were unnecessary.
The
oversized plastic jewels caught the cabin lights with every step he took down the aisle. Another passenger noticed and burst out laughing. Someone farther back began giggling, and soon several rows of people were watching the man’s feet.
Even a passing flight attendant struggled to keep her expression professional.
He scowled at the attention.
“What?”
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Nobody answered. He looked down and turned red. He wheeled around to face me.
“What the hell did you do?!”
I greeted him with my sweetest smile.
“Oh, you noticed! I thought your feet might enjoy some decoration while they were breathing.”
“You humiliated me!”
“I asked you to move your foot three times. You refused.”
“And you were incredibly rude about it.”
“I want to speak to whoever’s in charge here!”
A flight attendant came over to find out what was happening.
“Sir, what’s the problem?”
“Look at my feet! This woman
