I said: you look exactly right.
She said: you haven’t seen me in it yet.
I said: I know. But you will.
She held it up and looked at it and said: Edwin would have liked this one.
I said: yes.
She said: he always liked blue on me.
I said: he had good taste.
She said: yes.
She said it simply.
Yes, he did.
The acknowledgment of something true that does not require embellishment.
We flew out of Raleigh on a Thursday morning.
I had chosen the flight time carefully.
Not too early, because early was hard on Rose’s joints.
Not too late, because I wanted us to have the full afternoon at the hotel once we arrived.
The airport was the airport.
The security line was the security line.
Rose had the experience that first-time fliers have at security, which is the specific disorientation of learning the rules of a system that everyone else appears to know already.
