Friday, August 18, 2006

I walked through the Houston airport, bleary, past where security is checking incoming travelers for exploding shampoo. There is the usual round of announcements--do not leave baggage unattended--and then a very nice female voice informs whomever may be listening that any inappropriate jokes about security could get you arrested. Houston, I decide, has absolutely no sense of humor.

Later, in my grandparents living room, I realize that even though they are bickering gently, as usual, he does not take his eyes off of her. I would bet that he realized while she was in the hospital that he will lose her someday. I don't know that, when she goes, he will stay for much longer.

Spencer is a brand-new daddy and is still working out how he's supposed to behave. He's high strung and nervous, fidgety, but when he calms down and watches his daughter he looks like a man who has only just realized that the stars are actually other worlds.

It isn't even midnight yet, but I am coming back to the house, or anyway I would be if the key would turn in the lock. But it won't, and we confer briefly. Should we see if it fits in the back door lock? It doesn't. I have turned into a fifteen year old, worried that my mom is going to catch me out with a boy, and locked out. I've got no choice but to call her and let her know, and she comes out to fetch me.
As it turns out, she gave me the wrong key.

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