JFK International Airport, Queens, NY

January 1964

Joan had called in after Don requested the Pan Am meeting. After some wrangling of interns across the wire, she managed to speak with the fleet manager. They indicated that an upper-class clipper 707 was at the terminal for some minor repairs but could be boarded. There were attendants more than willing to accommodate and show the plane. Kaye and Peggy road with Don in his Cadillac and they arrived on the foggy morning just before 11:00 A.M. at the Pan Am Worldport. A porter was waiting at the port to escort them to the plane, which was at the far corner of the port; some ground crew were underneath it, moving around.

"Welcome to the Clipper of the Skies," the porter said. A woman, dressed all in blue with a small blue cap on, started walking beside them.

"Mr. Sykes briefed us on your visit." She said. "My name is Caitlin, I will be guiding you around today."

"Pleasure, Caitlin." Don smiled, shaking her hand lightly. "I'm Don, this is Kaye, and Peggy." He motioned to the girls with the fedora removed from his head.

"Follow me," She smiled to Don. Kaye smirked at Peggy. "I'm not sure exactly what you three want to see…" They were walking down the jetway.

"Inspiration." Don said. "We want to see what makes Pan Am, Pan Am."

"You'll get that here." Caitlin smiled, she moved her dark brown hair away from her brown eyes. "The Clipper of the Skies was built three years ago, the first of our first-class fleet. This plane does extra-continental trips to Europe mostly, some to South Africa as well. It has the most luxurious cabin we offer; the average seat is $400, one way."

They were walking down the aisle past the seats. Many of them were lounge style, against the wall, even some facing each other. There was a bar in the middle of the plane, small but covered in mirrors and plated glass.

"Wonder where Roger would be." Peggy said.

"The bar is free for all passengers on the flight." Caitlin added. They eventually reached the rear of the plane, turned around and began walking back. "Do you have any questions?"

"What's it like to be a stewardess?" Peggy asked.

"It's a dream." The young girl smiled. "I've wanted to do this since I was in high school. Pan Am came and did recruitment at the schools in my senior year. I volunteered and got accepted."

"Of course you did." Don said. She smiled to him.

"What makes Pan Am different than TWA, or any other airline." Kaye asked.

The woman sat down in one of the chairs, and the Sterling Cooper team followed.

"The kindness." She said. "They pay is frankly better too. The food, the planes themselves. You're buying the experience, I suppose." She said.

You're buying experience. Kaye jotted things down on a notebook. Don sat close to Caitlin, facing her.

"Tell me about the passengers." He said.

"Most of them are businessmen." She started. "We have some families aboard The Skies. They're normally from Sandy Point or some nouveau-riche area of the city."

"You live in New York?" Peggy asked.

"Yes, over in Washington Heights."

"Washington Heights?" Kaye questioned.

"What's the point of buying the ground when you work in the sky?" She quipped.

"It's all about the journey, then." Don said.

"Yes." She grinned. "I'd never trade my job."

Kaye stood up, walking over to the bar. Don was enraptured with the young nubile woman, Peggy was sifting through her notes. Kaye leaned over the bar, opening the small fridge where she found a mickey of spiced rum. She cracked the top open and began drinking. The rum was ice cold. She could see in her mind, a young handsome man behind the bar, surrounded by old men dressed in smart suits pretending to be young again. Perhaps a stray family sitting together, all well dressed and laughing. Some beautiful socialite women, the wives of the Whitney's, the Rockefeller's and the Rothchild's, smoking together in a corner on the lounge sofa; a stewardess doting on their every need. The tips flow like wine. The whole plane is drunk on themselves, their excessive largess. The Clipper of the Skies is not a plane, it's a lifestyle. Pan Am is life, it's not just a job. Pan Am doesn't give you a trip, they give you the world.

"You're not supposed to drink that." Caitlin said, turning from Don to face Kaye. She raised the bottle to her lips once again, downing another drink. Kaye walked over to Caitlin, who seemed very worried. She pulled a $5 bill from her clutch and gave it to the girl.

"Is that enough to ease your nerves?"

"Alright." The girl took the bill. "Just don't drink anymore. And don't let any of the porters see you."

Kaye sat back down beside Don, putting her arm behind his back.

Don continued asking questions of the stewardess who eagerly answered them. She looked to him with great wide eyes. Kaye wondered why the woman was so naïve and foolish.

"Do you have a number I could reach you at?" Don asked, pleasantly. The young girl blushed. "Just in case I have any more questions."

"Of course." She pulled out a napkin, Don handed her a golden pen, and she wrote down her number.

"Perfect." He looked to her, not like a buck to a doe, but a cougar. "Thank you for the tour."

The Sterling Cooper team stood with Don, following Caitlin off the Clipper.

"Talk soon." Don said, motioning for Kaye and Peggy to walk out first.

Kaye pulled a cigarette from her silver case, lighting it, offering one to Peggy. She hesitated, and then took it. Kaye reached over, lighting the end for her. Don was trailing behind.

"She has nice legs," Kaye mentioned. "Wonder when they open."

Peggy laughed under her breath. Don said nothing.


Caitlin, covered in sweat, let out a scream of ecstasy, and rolled off Don. They had met up an hour after the Sterling Cooper team got back to the office. Don placed a call through to the Pan Am Worldport and caught her before she'd even gone home. She eagerly agreed to meet for lunch, and they took a cab to Caitlin's small apartment in Washington Heights. It was a drab small brownstone, nestled between the immigrants of America.

Don smiled and looked at her with intense eyes.

"I've never been with an older man before." She opened.

Don's ego hurt slightly.

"We're not all bad." He said, rolling himself towards the edge of the bed. Caitlin moved towards him and pushed her bare chest into his back.

"That's not what I meant. I mean experienced." Don turned and smiled. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Back to work." He said, kissing her gently, holding her arm.

"Take the day off. You've been working too hard." She kissed him vigorously.

"I wish." Don said. "I'll call you." He stood up, placing his underwear and pants back on. Caitlin laid back down, pulling the sheets over herself.

"I hope so." She looked to him. "I hope you enjoyed your flight." She grinned.

"I'll have to take the round-trip next time." Don said, buttoning his white collared shirt, and sliding on his suit jacket. He picked up his fedora, sliding it onto his head. "I owe you a drink."

"You do." She said. "I'm mostly here on the weekends. You caught me on the right day."

"I'll remember that." He said, sliding out the front door.


Kaye was sitting in Don's chair when he returned to the office in the early afternoon. She was leaning back, reading through some notes waiting for him to return.

"How was Caitlin?" Kaye opened. Don smirked but ignored the question.

"Did you get something new?"

"What is there to get? They're selling experience."

"An experience." Don said.

"They're selling experience. Pan Am is the only airline in the world that is actually worldwide. They have access to every corner of the globe, and they know it. If you can, why not charge $400 a seat and sell their experience."

Don curled his lower lip in thought and moved towards the drinks cart. Kaye stood up.

"Keep working with Peggy on the journey segment. Fill Harry in on what you learned. Maybe we can just film the ad on the plane."

Kaye left the office and walked towards her cubicle.

"Joan have you got the mail?" Kaye asked.

"It's on your desk." Joan replied from behind the short wall.

Kaye checked her desk, and there was a card from her sister, along with a big pile of documents sent from Pan Am. How her sister found her at the hotel, Kaye would never know. It shortly detailed what Elena and Hugh were up to, and that she would be coming by New York in a month for Hugh's business. She was begging Kaye to meet. Kaye threw the card into the trash. Underneath the Pan Am documents was a large envelope, mailed from Reno to Donald F. Draper. Kaye's curiosity began biting at her.

"Joan, could you call for some hot water and tea."

"Alright." She huffed, placing a call to the front desk. It took 10 minutes, but a bellman arrived with a steel kettle and tea cup, beautifully ornate, and a small bag of orange pekoe. He put it in Kaye's cubicle beside her.

Kaye took the large envelope with Don's name on it and ran the steaming water from the kettle over the glued area. The glue loosened under the heat and moisture and came loose. She poured herself some tea and pulled the heap of paperwork from the envelope.

It detailed of the separation agreement between Don and 'Elizabeth Draper.' The terms were clear, that she would have the children during the week and Don would take them on the weekend. Sally, Robert, and Eugene, their three children.

"What are you reading?" Peggy leaned around the corner.

"None of your business." Kaye covered up the paperwork. "What do you need?"

"How does Don do that?" Peggy asked.

"Do what?"

"With that stewardess."

Kaye paused. "Girls want to be manipulated, played, chased."

"No, they don't." She recoiled.

"No, you don't." Kaye said. "Just because you're part of the Daughters of Bilitis doesn't mean we all are."

Joan laughed in the background.

"I resent that!" Peggy shouted. "I am not."

"Denial is the first step on the road to recovery." Kaye slammed the documents down on her desk.

Peggy scoffed loudly and began walking away. She turned around and came back briefly,

"I'll have you know, I have been with a man."

"You don't need to convince me." Kaye said, swigging back a flask.

"You're a lush, you know that?"

"What does that say about you then? Copywriter dragged along by her dad, Donald Draper."

Peggy blushed beet red and bit her tongue with great difficulty. She grabbed Kaye by the arm and dragged her into Harry's office.

"Can I help you?" Harry said, turning to face them

"Get out." Peggy said.

"Wha—"

"Get out!" She shouted. Harry stood quietly and left the room, closing the door.

"Why do you hate me?"

"Hate you? I hardly think about you." Kaye said, reaching into her silver case for a cigarette. Peggy ripped the case from her hand and threw it on the ground. The cigarettes spilled out everywhere.

"Oh look, Little Miss Peggy is throwing another temper tantrum."

"You can be such a... a bitch sometimes!" Peggy exclaimed.

"You think because you're a woman, and you're a senior copywriter, that you deserve respect. That people should honour you, and commend your amazing achievements when in the end all you are is a woman copywriter in a man's world. This job is all about taking bullshit and turning it into some bullshit a man wants his wife to buy. Stop being a jealous bore."

Peggy stood back silently, looking Kaye intently in the eyes. Kaye reached down, picking up a half-smoked cigarette, and relit it.

"Don't be such a damn drag, Peggy. You're wound so tight nuns would be jealous of your ass." She opened the door to Harry's office and stepped out. "Pick up my cigarettes when you're done whining."


Sally Draper was at home, resting in her bed. She had complained that morning of a fever to her mother, and touched her head to her lamp, which burnt her skin slightly but left her skin hot enough Betty was concerned. Betty gave her a thermometer, left the room, and upon returning, Sally was running a fever of 101. Sally held the tip of the thermometer to the lamp again, but Betty was too busy to be worried. She allowed her eldest child to stay home.

"You have to rest and stay in your room." Betty told Sally, twice before she went to get baby Gene.

"Fine." Sally said. She laid back in her bed and allowed her mother to go downstairs before she cracked the door. Henry Francis was downstairs, at the kitchen table. Sally could barely make out their conversation.

"Sally's going to be home all day." Betty announced.

"She's sick?" Henry responded.

"Fever."

"You don't think she's fooling you?"

"I took her temperature."

"Were you watching her the whole time?" Henry asked.

"No…" Betty hesitated. "I was only gone for 2 minutes putting up my hair."

"She could have fooled you then."

"Henry, stop." Betty stammered.

"I just don't want her taking advantage of you."

"My daughter isn't always trying to take advantage of me. Sometimes, she's just 10 years old."

Sally could hear her mother pull out a chair and sit down at the table.

"I'm sorry." Henry said. "I just wanted to be home alone, together, today."

"I know." Betty said. "We'll have other times."

"Work is winding up, the elections secured but Rocky is talking all about this highway deal he wants to secure and it's taking up a lot of my time."

"So what are you saying?"

"I don't know what my schedule will be."

"You're not going to be around at all, is what you're saying." Betty said.

"All I'm saying is that I don't know how busy I'll be. I just wanted to be with you."

"Henry, the children matter to me."

There was a brief silence. Sally took them time to go back into her room and began dressing herself. She put on a white shirt with some overalls and did up her hair. After this, she went back to the door, cracking it open again. There was some silence downstairs, she could hear her mother and Henry moving around, but no voices. She could hear her mother speaking quietly in a low tone,

"Henry… not now…"

It was followed by another silence. Her mother quietly said,

"Oh, I know, I wish she was gone too…"

Sally's face turned bright red. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she sat trembling in the hall for a moment. After composing herself, she moved back into the bedroom, grabbing a canvas satchel and she filled it with a few clothes, extra socks, and a light rain slicker. The cold had staved off enough that day that Sally was willing to chance a trip to the bus stop. She grabbed a nickel, a dime, and 5 dollars from her bedside drawer, meant for emergencies. She threw the satchel over her shoulder, and walked into the hall. Her mother and Henry were silent, save some moving of furniture and what sounded like heavy breathing. Sally made her way cautiously down the stairs, using the very edge of each step against the wall as to make the least noise. Only a few stairs creaked, specifically the bottom. The front door was right in front of her. She swiftly grabbed the door, opened it, and gently pulled it shut. Outside, the sun was shining. She pulled the rain slicker from the satchel and put it on. There were a small pair of canvas mitts she slid on as well. Sally made her way down the path and onto the sidewalk of Bullet Park Road, towards the bus stop.

The placard at the stop read that she had to wait 8 minutes for the next bus, or 25 for the one afterwards. She was willing to wait 8 minutes.

The bus pulled up and she slotted the nickel into the dropper and went to sit down.

"How old are you?" The driver asked.

"Thirteen." She responded. He nodded, and she took a seat further back in the bus. They took off, headed for the train station that connects Ossining and New York proper. Her mother had mentioned that her father was working at the Pierre Hotel.

It cost 1.25$ for her to take the train downtown. She sat against the window, watching the trees fly by. No one noticed her, and she blended well with the older woman sitting beside her. It took about 50 minutes via the train to arrive at Grand Central Terminal. Sally knew generally where she was, and a taxi was her best next step. She made her way through the terminal, walking out onto the busy street. An old man in a bowler hat was sticking his hand out, looking down the street. Sally watched him intently. He had a grey moustache, overgrown eyebrows, and a friendly, plump face. A taxicab pulled up to the curb beside him.

"Excuse me." She said to him.

"Yes?" The man had an odd accent.

"Where are you going?"

"Central Park." The man smiled.

"I'm going to the Pierre Hotel. Do you know where that is?"

The old man opened the cabs door.

"Yes I do. It's on the way, if you need the ride."

"I would." Sally said, unquestioningly. She pushed around him and sat on the far side of the rear seat. The old man sat beside her.

"The Pierre, followed by the south entrance of Central Park." The old man barked at the cabbie. He took off into traffic quickly.

"You're traveling alone?" The man asked.

"Almost always."

"I find it hard to believe. You're running away." He said, looking out the window.

"I guess." Sally said.

"Best of luck, my dear." The old man said.

The cabbie did not take long to pull up in front of the hotel, and the driver turned around. "That'll be 3$"

Sally handed him the money. The old man reached out before she could drop the bill into his hand.

"Keep it. You'll need all the money you can get." He chortled. "I've got the fare."

"Thanks." Sally replied monotonously. She closed the door of the cab, walked around the back of the car and up the large stone steps leading to the hotel. A man in a green bellhop uniform opened the door for her. The interior of the hotel was ornate, yet new. It was two different ages coming clashing together. She walked up to reception.

"I'm looking for my dad, Donald Draper." Sally said.

The woman behind the desk opened a large ledger and began reading through the list of room names.

"You must be looking for Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce." The woman replied. Sally looked at her indifferently. "They're on the 4th floor. Room 465."

"Thanks." Sally smiled, walking away from the desk and through the lobby.


"Don, are you there?" Betty Draper's trembling voice demanded.

"What is it, Betts."

"It's Sally. She's… gone." Betty forced the words out.

"What do you mean, gone?" Don leaned forward quickly in his chair. He was already raising his voice.

"She walked out of the house. I don't know how long she's been gone."

"How long ago?" Don stood in a fury.

"Any time within the last hour, I should think. She stayed home from school with a fever. I told her to go back to sleep, and I just went to check on her."

"How did you miss her?"

"Don't you dare make me feel like the bad guy, Don. I already feel terrible enough." Betty snapped back.

"Fine." Don huffed. "Have you called the police?"

"No… I haven't." She said. "I called the school, then her friends, Glen Bishop, and Francine in case she somehow got there. She can't have gone far."

"Call the police. They will patrol the bus stations, trains. They'll find her."

"Alright." Betty said. Her voice trembled. "Don… what if…"

"There's no 'what-ifs', Betts. She's fine. She's a smart girl. Take care of Gene and Bobby."

"Alright…" She mumbled. "Alright."

"Call me with updates."

"I will. Goodbye Don. Thank you."

Don had cooled off. Worry replaced his feelings of great anger. He hung up the receiver.

There was a single wrap at the door of Room 465.

"Kaye, could you get the door?" Joan asked.

Kaye silently stood from her seat, stretched and moved towards the door. She opened it to the stout figure of a young girl.

"Can I help you?" Kaye asked.

"I'm looking for Donald Draper." She said. "He's my dad."

Kaye was visibly surprised; the young girl spoke again.

"My name's Sally. Tell Joan."

Kaye turned around, looking at Joan from afar.

"Sally Draper's here."

Joan stood swiftly, moving for the door.

"Your father's in his office."

She grabbed the young girl's hand and walked her to the second bedroom.

"Don?" Joan knocked at the door.

"Come in."

Joan pushed Sally into Don's office. Don leaped up from his chair, running over to hug his daughter. He was silent until he let her out of the hug.

"Don't you ever run away again. Do you hear me? Don't you ever."

"Mommy didn't want me there anymore. She said so, so I left."

Don looked up to Joan.

"Joan could you give us a minute."

"Of course." The redhead left the room, closing the door quietly.

"What do you mean?"

Sally began tearing up. Her eyes turned red and her cheeks flushed.

"Mom was talking to Henry and I heard her say she wish I was gone."

Don bit his tongue. Sally was frightened and thought she was about to be hit.

"Kaye." Don shouted. The young slender woman appeared in the doorway. "This is my daughter, Sally. Sally, this is Ms. Sharpe. Could you take Sally down to the restaurant to get an ice cream?" Don pulled a $5 bill from his pocket.

"Alright. Let's go Sally." Kaye reached out her hand instinctively. Sally hesitated a moment, looked to her hand, then back to her face, and grabbed it. Kaye lead Sally through the room to the door.

"Where're you going?" Roger asked.

"Restaurant for ice cream." Kaye said.

Sally smiled at him as they exited. Once they were down the hall by the elevator, Sally let go of Kaye's hand.

"We don't have to pretend to be friends." She said.

"Cynical already."

Kaye and Sally stepped into the elevator.

"What does that mean?"

"You see the world for what it is."

"I like to think I do." Sally said triumphantly.

"You take too much after your father." Kaye said.

"What does that mean?" Sally said, angrily.

"You'll find out someday."