I noticed her
mother first. Stylish and attractive, she was better dressed than most of the
churning mob in the Phoenix airport terminal, waiting for their Memorial Day
weekend flights. She sat six seats away crammed in with other passengers
listening for their boarding calls. An unintelligible announcement barked over
the loudspeaker and she stood, leaned down to a woman in her early twenties,
who I figured was her daughter, and handed her a carry-on bag. The girl
accepted the bag without taking her eyes from the book she held. She continued
to read as the older woman made her way through the aromas of food concessions
to the restroom area.
