Read Online The World Without You by Joshua Henkin - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Joshua Henkin
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says Noelle, who in the cab to the airport had to mediate between the brothers, none of whom wanted to sit next to Ari, thinking he would vomit on their laps.
At customs they get their visas stamped, and then they head over to the baggage carousel, which Yoni and Dov promptly mount. They ride around on it, pretending they’re luggage, until Amram insists they get off. Then they’re through the swinging doors and out into the terminal, where Noelle scans the crowd for her sisters.
3
“Jesus Christ!” Lily says. She’s standing in Logan waiting for Clarissa, who’s an hour late. She looks up at the arrivals screen above her head, but what’s the point: Clarissa and Nathaniel are coming by car. She waits a few minutes longer, then heads over to international to meet Noelle alone. She skips the automated walkway; she’ll get there faster on her own two feet. She cuts a striking figure, a pretty redhead in capri pants, threading her way between the travelers.
She checks her voicemail and finds a message from Clarissa. She’s been waylaid, it seems. It’s hard to hear her sister over the voice of the P.A. telling travelers to pass to the left, stand to the right, issuing an endless loop of gate changes, but the upshot is clear: Clarissa won’t be making it to the airport; she’ll meet up with them at the house. I’m truly sorry , Clarissa says. You’ll have to strap those kids to the roof of the car. I love you, Lil. I owe you one.
Lily mouths the words back— I love you —then presses on. Clarissa: her older sister, her best friend. She does love her, but right now she’s annoyed. Strap those kids to the roof of the car, indeed! Though even that won’t be sufficient. With Noelle and Amram and their four boys, with all the luggage and car seats (Lily and Malcolm’s friends are always transporting their car seats wherever they go—it’s as if they’re cabled to their arms), they’ll have to rent a car as well.
Lily doesn’t know Noelle’s flight number—all Clarissa told her was the airline—and when she arrives at international, she looks up at the screen and sees multiple flights from Tel Aviv.
Terrific, she thinks. Lovely.
At information, she asks to place an announcement, but no sooner does she do so than she hears her name being called out—“Lily! Lily!”—like some clarion call from years ago. It’s Noelle, followed by Amram and their four boys, two of whom are sliding shoeless through the terminal. Another of them (The second? Lily thinks. The third? There are so many of them, and they’re so closely spaced, it’s hard to keep track) has gotten hold of Noelle’s pocketbook and is sifting through the contents.
“Hello there,” Lily says, and she kisses Noelle on the cheek. Then she kisses her on the other cheek, in a show of gallantry, of Europeanism, she isn’t sure what. Mostly, she realizes, it’s a show of discomfort, because, Jesus, Noelle is her sister, but the fact is they can’t stand each other, and when Lily feels uncomfortable she goes for high drama; histrionics is her point at rest.
“Hello, Lily,” Amram says.
Lily takes a step toward her brother-in-law. Then, remembering that Orthodox Jewish men don’t kiss women they’re not married to, she reaches out and shakes Amram’s hand. “How are you, Amram?”
“I’m all right.” Amram looks warily at the crowd funneling past him.
“You’re here,” she tells them.
Amram nods. “Land of the free, home of the brave.”
It looks to Lily as if Amram has put on weight, but she can’t be sure; he has always been fleshy-faced and heavyset. He’s standing next to Noelle with his hands behind his back, looking ahead expressionlessly, as if waiting to be instructed what to do and already resenting those instructions. He has blue eyes, and blond, thinning hair pasted to his head by a sheen of sweat, on top of which lies a black velvet yarmulke. His face is tinged with color as if he’s been exerting himself.
At customs they get their visas stamped, and then they head over to the baggage carousel, which Yoni and Dov promptly mount. They ride around on it, pretending they’re luggage, until Amram insists they get off. Then they’re through the swinging doors and out into the terminal, where Noelle scans the crowd for her sisters.
3
“Jesus Christ!” Lily says. She’s standing in Logan waiting for Clarissa, who’s an hour late. She looks up at the arrivals screen above her head, but what’s the point: Clarissa and Nathaniel are coming by car. She waits a few minutes longer, then heads over to international to meet Noelle alone. She skips the automated walkway; she’ll get there faster on her own two feet. She cuts a striking figure, a pretty redhead in capri pants, threading her way between the travelers.
She checks her voicemail and finds a message from Clarissa. She’s been waylaid, it seems. It’s hard to hear her sister over the voice of the P.A. telling travelers to pass to the left, stand to the right, issuing an endless loop of gate changes, but the upshot is clear: Clarissa won’t be making it to the airport; she’ll meet up with them at the house. I’m truly sorry , Clarissa says. You’ll have to strap those kids to the roof of the car. I love you, Lil. I owe you one.
Lily mouths the words back— I love you —then presses on. Clarissa: her older sister, her best friend. She does love her, but right now she’s annoyed. Strap those kids to the roof of the car, indeed! Though even that won’t be sufficient. With Noelle and Amram and their four boys, with all the luggage and car seats (Lily and Malcolm’s friends are always transporting their car seats wherever they go—it’s as if they’re cabled to their arms), they’ll have to rent a car as well.
Lily doesn’t know Noelle’s flight number—all Clarissa told her was the airline—and when she arrives at international, she looks up at the screen and sees multiple flights from Tel Aviv.
Terrific, she thinks. Lovely.
At information, she asks to place an announcement, but no sooner does she do so than she hears her name being called out—“Lily! Lily!”—like some clarion call from years ago. It’s Noelle, followed by Amram and their four boys, two of whom are sliding shoeless through the terminal. Another of them (The second? Lily thinks. The third? There are so many of them, and they’re so closely spaced, it’s hard to keep track) has gotten hold of Noelle’s pocketbook and is sifting through the contents.
“Hello there,” Lily says, and she kisses Noelle on the cheek. Then she kisses her on the other cheek, in a show of gallantry, of Europeanism, she isn’t sure what. Mostly, she realizes, it’s a show of discomfort, because, Jesus, Noelle is her sister, but the fact is they can’t stand each other, and when Lily feels uncomfortable she goes for high drama; histrionics is her point at rest.
“Hello, Lily,” Amram says.
Lily takes a step toward her brother-in-law. Then, remembering that Orthodox Jewish men don’t kiss women they’re not married to, she reaches out and shakes Amram’s hand. “How are you, Amram?”
“I’m all right.” Amram looks warily at the crowd funneling past him.
“You’re here,” she tells them.
Amram nods. “Land of the free, home of the brave.”
It looks to Lily as if Amram has put on weight, but she can’t be sure; he has always been fleshy-faced and heavyset. He’s standing next to Noelle with his hands behind his back, looking ahead expressionlessly, as if waiting to be instructed what to do and already resenting those instructions. He has blue eyes, and blond, thinning hair pasted to his head by a sheen of sweat, on top of which lies a black velvet yarmulke. His face is tinged with color as if he’s been exerting himself.
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