mother’s arms. Her mother has a slightly lemony smell in addition to the familiar celery-like scent of the perfume she has worn forever.
“How did you get through security?” Leanne is jolted from childhood by Kit’s voice beside her.
Carol releases Leanne and laughs. “One of the perks of being airline people.” She beams at Kit, then impulsively throws her arms around him as well. “Soon you’ll be my son-in-law!” she cries.
Leanne gives her father an awkward kiss on the cheek. He puts a hand on the back of her shoulder and reaches another toward Carol, steering them in the direction of baggage claim.
“Everything is all ready,” Carol tells Leanne as they start walking, her eyes bright with pleasure. “It’s going to be so lovely, Leanne. I’ve done everything just as we planned. I got the doves—” She stops short, as if momentarily confused. Leanne shifts her bag to the other shoulder, letting herself be propelled by her father, even as she’s eddied about in the rapids of her mother’s enthusiasm. A familiar feeling of passivity washes over her. Others will pilot the wedding from here. She glances back at Kit. He’s following a few steps behind, carrying the box with her wedding dress, and watching them intently, like an anthropologist arriving in some remote village. Her documentary genius. Kit Burns, she started calling him after he won the grant. He’ll look at Mexico with that intense, searching gaze.
“Yes,” Carol is saying, “I got the doves. They’re in the garage in a nice little cage. And I just went to Meijer here for the things we can’t get in Ryville, you know, and I found the most fabulous shrimp. Oh, they’re going to look so wonderful!”
“That’s great, Mom.”
“I was thinking we could use that big crystal punch bowl, only fill it with a mound of ice and perch the boiled shrimp all around the edge. With the cocktail sauce right there in the middle. It will be very impressive, right at the center of the table!”
“That sounds perfect.”
“A veritable shrimp Matterhorn,” Kit puts in. He wants to be accepted by the natives. That’s what anthropologists do.
“Come on,” her father says, exerting just enough force on Leanne’s elbow to speed up her steps. “If we hurry, we can beat the rush to the escalator.”
three
BY THE TIME THEY REACH THE BAGGAGE CLAIM, THE belt has already cranked into action. Will sees it with relief: there’s something he can do. So far, he and Kit have been extraneous, holding themselves apart from the women’s barrage of chatter by maintaining an awkward silence. Now they can make themselves useful. Will steps over and begins scanning the bags trundling by before remembering that he has no idea what Kit and Leanne’s luggage looks like.
“Leanne’s suitcase is gray. It matches her shoulder bag,” Kit says, as if having read his mind.
“Look at that, the luggage is already here!” Carol cries, a fountain of cheer now that Leanne has arrived.
“Yeah, maybe they hired a second guy to help unload the bag-gage,” Leanne says, and she and Kit grin at each other. Will sees it and looks away. Let them make fun of his Michigan backwater. They don’t know about Hong Kong.
Kit steps forward and pulls a black bag off the belt, quickly turning it upright and pulling the handle out in one smooth motion. He sets it next to Leanne. As he turns back, Will notes that he looks a little pale and sweaty in the face.
“Rough landing?” he asks.
“How’d you guess?” Kit asks, and a small, mean feeling of triumph flickers in Will’s chest. You’re a bit green around the gills, he almost says, but Leanne’s grown-up, serious self standing there stops him. He looks out the doors to the parking lot and shrugs instead. “I figured, with that weather,” he says.
“There’s mine,” Leanne says, pointing.
Will is stepping forward when Kit steps in front of him.
“I’ve got it,” the young man says. He sets down
“How did you get through security?” Leanne is jolted from childhood by Kit’s voice beside her.
Carol releases Leanne and laughs. “One of the perks of being airline people.” She beams at Kit, then impulsively throws her arms around him as well. “Soon you’ll be my son-in-law!” she cries.
Leanne gives her father an awkward kiss on the cheek. He puts a hand on the back of her shoulder and reaches another toward Carol, steering them in the direction of baggage claim.
“Everything is all ready,” Carol tells Leanne as they start walking, her eyes bright with pleasure. “It’s going to be so lovely, Leanne. I’ve done everything just as we planned. I got the doves—” She stops short, as if momentarily confused. Leanne shifts her bag to the other shoulder, letting herself be propelled by her father, even as she’s eddied about in the rapids of her mother’s enthusiasm. A familiar feeling of passivity washes over her. Others will pilot the wedding from here. She glances back at Kit. He’s following a few steps behind, carrying the box with her wedding dress, and watching them intently, like an anthropologist arriving in some remote village. Her documentary genius. Kit Burns, she started calling him after he won the grant. He’ll look at Mexico with that intense, searching gaze.
“Yes,” Carol is saying, “I got the doves. They’re in the garage in a nice little cage. And I just went to Meijer here for the things we can’t get in Ryville, you know, and I found the most fabulous shrimp. Oh, they’re going to look so wonderful!”
“That’s great, Mom.”
“I was thinking we could use that big crystal punch bowl, only fill it with a mound of ice and perch the boiled shrimp all around the edge. With the cocktail sauce right there in the middle. It will be very impressive, right at the center of the table!”
“That sounds perfect.”
“A veritable shrimp Matterhorn,” Kit puts in. He wants to be accepted by the natives. That’s what anthropologists do.
“Come on,” her father says, exerting just enough force on Leanne’s elbow to speed up her steps. “If we hurry, we can beat the rush to the escalator.”
three
BY THE TIME THEY REACH THE BAGGAGE CLAIM, THE belt has already cranked into action. Will sees it with relief: there’s something he can do. So far, he and Kit have been extraneous, holding themselves apart from the women’s barrage of chatter by maintaining an awkward silence. Now they can make themselves useful. Will steps over and begins scanning the bags trundling by before remembering that he has no idea what Kit and Leanne’s luggage looks like.
“Leanne’s suitcase is gray. It matches her shoulder bag,” Kit says, as if having read his mind.
“Look at that, the luggage is already here!” Carol cries, a fountain of cheer now that Leanne has arrived.
“Yeah, maybe they hired a second guy to help unload the bag-gage,” Leanne says, and she and Kit grin at each other. Will sees it and looks away. Let them make fun of his Michigan backwater. They don’t know about Hong Kong.
Kit steps forward and pulls a black bag off the belt, quickly turning it upright and pulling the handle out in one smooth motion. He sets it next to Leanne. As he turns back, Will notes that he looks a little pale and sweaty in the face.
“Rough landing?” he asks.
“How’d you guess?” Kit asks, and a small, mean feeling of triumph flickers in Will’s chest. You’re a bit green around the gills, he almost says, but Leanne’s grown-up, serious self standing there stops him. He looks out the doors to the parking lot and shrugs instead. “I figured, with that weather,” he says.
“There’s mine,” Leanne says, pointing.
Will is stepping forward when Kit steps in front of him.
“I’ve got it,” the young man says. He sets down
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