It was a sunny day. The winds of yesterday were gone. The sky was blue. The air was warm. The Irises were beginning to bloom, and the leaves of some trees and woody shrubs were beginning to push out, if you noticed closely enough.
She left on a sunny day for the cold white north. She left without a coat. Needing none in the warmth of Texas, she had sent hers on ahead. What a day to leave: temperatures in the seventies under a cloudless blue sky. What a day to fly back to the thirties and snow and grey skies and leafless, cold forests on the hillsides. Without a coat.
He stood by the curb watching her walk into the airport, her purse and bag over her shoulders, her suitcase rolling next to her. Then she stopped and turned back. With a motherly goodbye smile, she waved and stood there watching him. With a son-ly goodbye smile, he waved back and stood there watching her. You go first. No, you go first.
“I love you.”
“Good bye.”