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“No,” she said. “It made me realize that Amy is the one.”

Max stared intently at her as he took another sip of his Scotch.

“Well, say something!” Sally demanded. “I told you that because I want your opinion.”

“Okay…” Max started. “Why would almost dying on an airplane make you realize that?”

“Because now that I’m going through all this I-really-appreciate-life stuff, I realize that one of the things I really appreciate is Amy. And I don’t want to imagine her ever being out of my life.”

Max didn’t say anything and Sally grew exasperated.

“Max, I want you attack this! I want you to poke holes in it! Make me look at it differently!”

T

he truth was, that even though Sally was certain about her feelings for Amy, they frightened her. It was only a little more than three weeks ago that they went on their first date! What was happening to her? Where was Sensible Sally? Because this didn’t seem sensible! Where was the Sally who had said “I love you” to only two women in her life because she always wanted to make sure a relationship was going to “stick” and had always felt justified in that approach because most of her relationships hadn’t stuck.

Max sighed, but he also put an expression on his face that Sally recognized, knowing it meant he was thinking about a matter seriously.

“Okay,” he began. “Well, my first thought is that it seems pretty quick.”

Sally nodded.

“I already thought about that. It hasn’t changed anything. I feel like I’ve known her half my life even though it’s only been less than a month.”

“Okay,” Max began again. “How about this? You and her just shared a traumatic experience. Maybe that’s clouding your judgement.”

Sally nodded.

“Good point,” she said, curling her leg under her on the couch. “But…think about this! That can go both ways, right? I could have walked away from the emergency landing looking at Amy and thinking, ‘I super appreciate life so much more now! Why do I want to waste it with Amy?’”

Max furrowed his brow.

“That actually makes sense,” he said.

“You always seem so surprised when I make sense,” Sally responded.

“Because I often am. Anyway, what about that dry spell you kept complaining to me about? Amy is your first girlfriend in a while. Maybe you’re just overly happy about that or something.”

Sally nodded.

“Fine. But, Max, I’ve had dry spells before—not as bad, but still. And Amy…And Amy isn’t just another girlfriend.”

How to explain this? Especially to a man?

Sally’s eyes widened. That was it! Max wasn’t just another man! He was Jillian Ashley! Forget about wanting him to poke holes in what she was feeling for Amy! Right now, she wanted him to understand!

Putting her drink down on the coffee table, she took his hand.

“Max, listen…it’s just like in your books! When Marisol woke up in Karen’s apartment the morning after their second date and she just knew she’d be with her forever? Or when Jeannette introduced Ari to her parents and she felt certain she was introducing them to her future wife? You’re the person who wrote those scenes which means you can understand what I’m feeling!”

“But those are books!” Max explained patiently. “I write what horny, lovelorn lesbians want to read! In real life, you shouldn’t start getting all googly-eyed over someone until you’ve had your first fight, at least!”

“Ha!” Sally barked. “We had a little fight in San Francisco; but we talked about it afterwards and resolved it.”

“Oh, well then! You’re obviously meant for each other!”

“You’re being sarcastic,” Sally said, “but that’s how I feel!” Sally then tried to explain to Max what went through her mind when her and Amy locked eyes during the Incident, when it felt as if the plane was about to disintegrate: that her and Amy belonged together, that they were meant for one another and that if they were going to die, that Sally was hoping she’d get to spend eternity with Amy.