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She was the Captain

Rick boarded the first leg of his flight back to Houston, Texas at a quarter to five in the evening on Monday, the day after the Indianapolis 500. The Indianapolis International Airport was swarming with exuberant Indy 500 fans from all over the world preparing for their journey home. It was easy to spot race fans, for most were now donning 500 T-shirts, hats and various other articles of clothing or accessory souvenirs they had purchased at the Speedway the day before. Rick took his seat in the emergency exit row of the Boeing 737-700 series aircraft, directly over the starboard wing. Standing nearly six foot four inches tall with a toned, muscular frame of nearly two hundred and thirty pounds, Rick was a formidable man and was immensely grateful for the extra leg room that the emergency exit row seat by the window afforded him. Unlike previous years, the seat beside him was not occupied by his wife, or rather now, his ex-wife, Wendy. Rick and Wendy had spent six very turbulent years together in marital hell. Though Rick loved Wendy deeply; probably much more than she loved him, he could no longer endure Wendy's emotional distance and unavailability. Their sex life, if you could even call it that had become extremely stale and passionless and Wendy was virtually incapable of intimacy. Finally by last July, Rick no longer had the emotional stamina to continue enduring their miserable existence any further. So, for the first time in his life, Rick had come to the "Greatest Spectacle in Racing" by himself; and even though he had been ...

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