My father was coming out the front door. I was about to call to him, then I thought I’d follow him and slip my hand under his arm, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, and see the look of surprise on his face, but I didn’t move. In appearance, he hadn’t changed, his body was big inside his coat, his stride still soft and imposing, but I knew that if I looked in his eyes, I would see how much he’d aged. I stood there, not moving, while he walked to his car. He opened the car door, then looked back toward the building. I followed the direction of his gaze and saw my mother at the window. He gestured to her with his hand, a wave that was also an admonition to go back inside so she wouldn’t catch cold, but she didn’t move, just smiled and gestured in return, telling him to go. It was a ritual I’d never seen them perform. Maybe it had started when they’d been left on their own. My father got in the car and sat for a while, waiting for the engine to warm up, with that incredible respect he had for inanimate things. All the while, my mother stayed at the window, but it was closed now, so I couldn’t see her well, couldn’t see how she was. When at last the car set off, wheezing toward the intersection, my mother disappeared from the window.

I still didn’t move. I’d never seen them looking so calm. Of course, they weren’t thinking about me, so why should I bother them? It was two days before Christmas and everything must have been organized already for lunch with their daughters, their daughters’ husbands, and their daughters’ children. All good people, but what did I have in common with them? I could already hear my mother’s questions, see my father’s silent looks, hear my sisters’ comments from the height of the compact little mound of respectability on which they’d built their nests. I’d left so long ago, why should I disturb them at Christmas, of all times?

Anyway, I had to do something, at least move. It was too cold to just stand there. So I went in search of a delicatessen and wandered around until I found one that was okay. Inside, it was more lush and more resplendent than a cathedral. I ordered a hot dog with extra sauerkraut and a little mustard and ate it as I headed back to the train station on foot. The hot dog was excellent, well worth a trip to Milan, truth be told.