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At this point in time, I was wriggling my ass in my chair every other moment. I do it when I get excited. I do it when my master gives me a look. I do it involuntarily, like a tail.He caught my eye as I was listening to two friends swap related experiences.He patted his lap and said in a low voice, "C'mere."I was out of my chair quickly and smiling. No sooner had I gotten to my feet, I was on my knees at his side. I stared up at him in case he wanted anything else. He proceeded to pet my head and my toes curled. I finagled myself closer, wrapping an arm around his leg and placing my face as close to his zipper as possible. I nuzzled as he pet me.It was more than an hour later when he shut the door behind the last guest. I stood behind him, having said my goodbyes. He turned on me, and the look in his eyes pinned my feet to the floor. He looked angry. My mind raced to think what I could've done to deserve such intensity.He raised a hand to place it on my shoulder and pushed down with a. He sipped a bumpy Coke and thought of his mother wafting around the kitchen in heels and apron, the perfect housewife, brownies in the oven out in time for the little boy and the covey of girls to devour before dinner. From thousands of miles away, he could smell the kitchen in his waking dream, smell his mother walking through the shadow of a heartbeat, hear the oven door open, the click of her heels on the slate floor, the early twilight of New England winters, dinner on the table, help with homework only a whisper away. He cried then for the first time in a long, long time. As he walked off the plane and up the Jetway his little sister Melody hove into view, her face a wreck of red puffy tear-soaked eyes. He looked around for his other sister, Edith, and he saw her standing next to – ohmygosh – Brooke MacDonald. He made his way through the jumble of passenger greetings and plane changes to his sisters and flew into their open arms. They latched on to Paul Carter with all of the.
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