I was 14, jumping up and down with joy, my brother watching me amused. He had come one hour earlier to pick me up. He looked so pretty in the sunlight with that auburn hair, so much handsomer than I had imagined the other night in the flashing colored lights at the disco. He looked so confident, and I just went along, with no idea of what I was doing.
I was 36, jumping up and down with joy, somewhat aware and apprehensive (what would people say?). He wasn't late, but I was very early, and his first hug made me feel warm, made me feel wanted. We talked about books, calm in the rushing airport, dimming the world away. The children were sitting on the floor in a circle, playing a game; we stood and listened.
He looks like he knows what he's doing. I take his hand and follow along.
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