Chapter 17
Lucy flew on an airplane when she was seven.
The problem was not the airplane.
It was the suitcase.
Teresa arrived with a blue hard-shell case.
Lucy stopped in the hallway.
“No.”
Teresa looked down.
Then at the suitcase.
“Oh.”
Nobody panicked.
That mattered.
Teresa said:
“I can use another bag.”
Lucy stared at the case.
Then:
“No.”
Raffaele almost stepped forward.
Lucy raised one hand.
Not toward him.
Toward Teresa.
“Open.”
Teresa did.
The suitcase lay flat.
Empty.
Lucy stood five feet away.
Then four.
Raffaele watched.
Dr. Mercer had warned everyone not to turn every confrontation with luggage into a therapeutic event.
Sometimes a suitcase needed to be a suitcase.
Lucy pointed.
“Put clothes.”
Teresa placed two sweaters inside.
Then socks.
Then shoes.
She did not close the lid.
Lucy watched.
“Close.”
Teresa looked at her.
“Sure?”
“Yes.”
The lid came down.
Click.
Lucy flinched.
Small.
Still.
Then:
“Again.”
Teresa opened it.
Closed it.
Nothing happened.
Lucy looked bored.
“That one loud.”
“Yes.”
“Get soft one.”
Teresa laughed.
“Excellent solution.”
They traveled with soft bags.
Nobody called the hard suitcase a victory.
Nobody called avoiding it failure.
At the hotel, Lucy unpacked her own clothes.
Then asked:
“Did Celeste have suitcase because airport?”
“Yes.”
“She had ticket.”
“Yes.”
“Canada.”
“Yes.”
Lucy knew more now.
Still not everything.
“What if she got there?”
Raffaele took time.
“She would have taken you somewhere I didn’t know about.”
“Would you find?”
Every part of him wanted to say yes.
Immediately.
Absolutely.
No one could keep his daughter from him.
Old Raffaele.
He stopped.
“I would have tried.”
Lucy frowned.
“Would you?”
“I think so.”
“That’s not yes.”
“No.”
She looked uncomfortable.
Good answers were sometimes uncomfortable.
He continued.
“I don’t want to promise something I can’t know.”
Lucy sat on the bed.
“Celeste said safe.”
“Yes.”
“Was Canada safe?”
“The country wasn’t the problem.”
She waited.
“Taking you without telling me was.”
Another pause.
“And putting you in the suitcase.”
Lucy nodded.
That part was obvious.
At dinner, Teresa asked Lucy whether she liked flying.
“Yes.”
“Travel again?”
“Yes.”
“Suitcase?”
Lucy frowned.
“Soft.”
Everyone accepted that.
A year later, Lucy chose a small rolling case for a school trip.
Hard shell.
Purple.
Raffaele stared at it too long in the store.
Lucy noticed.
“You don’t like?”
“It’s fine.”
“You’re doing face.”
Apparently counseling had not fixed his face.
She pulled the zipper.
“It has unicorn.”
He looked at the glittering animal.
“Unfortunately.”
Lucy smiled.
They bought it.
At home she packed three shirts.
A stuffed rabbit.
Then removed the rabbit.
“Rabbit stays.”
Exactly as before.
May you like
Some things changed.
Some did not need to.
