As Lucy sat on the molded plastic seat in the airport, she knew she had made a mistake. Having grown up on a steady diet of tofu and brown rice, the kids adored McDonald’s. Their excitement, fueled by excessive amounts of sugar, caffeine, and saturated fats, was almost unbearable. Her mother’s plane was due at seven o’clock, and Lucy very much hoped it would be on time. She could see her reflection in the expanse of plate glass that overlooked the runway. She was a very small figure, surrounded by a moving blur of brightly clad children.

“Please sit down and wait nicely for Grandma,” she begged through clenched teeth.

“Ooh, here comes another one!” shouted Toby. The girls screamed and jumped from their seats, running to press their hands and noses against the window.

“Is it Grandma? Is it Grandma?” they demanded.

Lucy checked her watch. Five minutes past seven. “Maybe,” she said. “I hope so.” Actually, she rationalized, this isn’t so bad. At least she wouldn’t have to face her mother alone. Ever since her father had died six months ago, Lucy had dreaded being alone with her mother. When she last saw her mother, the pain of her loss was so palpable that Lucy could barely stand to be with her. One look at her grief-ravaged face and Lucy had wanted to flee back to the safety of Bill’s arms, back to the cocoon of her house. “There is no safety, no security,” her mother’s reproachful eyes always seemed to say. “I thought there was, but I was wrong.”

Lucy crossed her arms across her chest, pressed her lips together, and looked up to see the automatic doors opening. Her mother picked her way carefully along the rubber matting, holding herself together only by the tightly wound threads of restraint and good breeding. She might well have been the survivor of some dreadful battle or holocaust, a witness to unspeakable horror, scarcely sure herself whether she was alive or dead.

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER EIGHT

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“Hi, Mom,” said Lucy, rising from her seat and brushing her cheek against her mother’s.

“Hello, Lucy,” her mother responded tonelessly.

The children gathered around her, waiting expectantly to be fussed over, but their grandmother didn’t seem to notice them.

“How was the flight?” Lucy asked, searching her purse for change to give the kids so they could buy gumballs from the machine.

“It was fine,” her mother answered automatically.

“Well, do you have a baggage check or anything? How do we get your bags?”

“A baggage check?” Her mother seemed never to have heard of such a thing.