SIMON WALKED BESIDE JENNIFER through the San Francisco airport. Their pace was uncharacteristically leisurely and seemed wanting of the enthusiasm that normally accompanied those arriving home to SFO’s international terminal. Expressions were mutually pensive. Jennifer glanced at her father as he towed her carry-on behind; her eyes probed the subtleties of his face as if concerns left unspoken could be found within. His unsettled smile suggested otherwise, that she relinquish the nuance of the moment to other things, perhaps her other senses, the ones to which grand architectural spaces speak. They continued walking, thinking. Luggage wheels rolled on.
Simon knew Jennifer’s mother, Leslie, would be waiting impatiently in the appropriate spot. He envisioned her head moving back and forth trying to get a glimpse of her oncoming daughter. The inevitable encounter caused a multitude of thoughts to echo with every stride. In order to prepare himself, Simon imagined Jennifer embracing her mother. That, however, only stirred his expectations. What role should he play in the reunion: spectator or participant? Would he be able to control his own tears? That, unfortunately, would be answered soon enough.
While offering Jennifer a more convincing smile, he wondered if a mother-daughter embrace could ever be so poignant. A lump arose in his throat. Thank God for large airports, Simon thought, while appreciating the time it took to walk by the first of several baggage carousels.
Recent telephone conversations with Leslie had gone surprisingly well, Simon recalled. Jennifer had passed the phone to her father more than once during her short recovery period at the cottage. He promised Leslie that he would bring their daughter home as soon as possible, insisting that Inspector Hansen had agreed to wrap up Jennifer’s end of the investigation as quickly as possible. The kidnappers were presently the subjects of an FBI investigation, he assured, and would remain on American soil until they could be extradited to Canada. Simon also suggested that he would keep her in the loop as the criminal case progressed.
Simon’s eyes searched the crowd ahead. He hadn’t seen Leslie for some time and a tinge of guilt heightened his sense of apprehension. He suddenly became very conscious of the circumstances that precipitated their reunion. He would have allowed his neglectfulness to appropriately wash over him, however, longing, smiling faces soon came into view. Signs with names beckoned passengers on their bearer’s behalf.
Leslie suddenly emerged, pushing her way to the front of the awaiting crowd. Jennifer surged forward as Simon slowed, then stopped. Jennifer’s composure evaporated as she lunged for her mother. Her heartfelt embrace was equaled by a mother’s desire to never let go. “Mom,” Jennifer cried, as each of them let loose a torrent of pent-up emotion. “I thought I’d never see you again!” she added, shuddering.
Leslie was equally tearful, helplessly overwhelmed by the reunion. Simon struggled to contain his emotions, but he couldn’t help being swept into the moment. Tears began to well up in his eyes. He covered his mouth with his left hand in an attempt to disguise any further vulnerability. It was all for not, though. When Leslie looked up at him, her teary eyes beamed into his. It was as if their glance sealed the moment in time. Each knew their family’s future would forever be defined by this encounter.
As Jennifer separated herself from her mother’s embrace, she too looked up at her father. Simon feigned a smile, using one hand to caress his daughter’s hair. After pausing, the other reached out and settled on Leslie’s shoulder. They all felt it; in one simple gesture, the future had been set free from the past.
“Thank you,” Leslie said, her voice trembling. “Thank you for bringing our daughter home!” Simon only nodded, fearing words would be his undoing.
Jennifer sniffled before accepting a tissue from her mother.
“Would either of you consider sitting down … for something to drink?” Jennifer asked.
Simon and Leslie glanced to their daughter before each of them looked for an answer in the other. Their eyes appeared longing, as if seeking the other’s approval. Short fragments of agreement were spoken, one awkwardly overlapping the other. The joy in Jennifer’s smile confirmed their essence. “There’s a little spot on the way out. Would coffee be ok?”
“Coffee would be fine,” Simon replied.
Leslie’s nod of agreement put Jennifer into motion. She grabbed her carry on suitcase before physically prompting, “Shall we then?”