Leo tilted his head, looking at me.
"Mommy's friends? Then they must be nice."
I looked at him.
Those green eyes full of trust.
"Yeah," I said. "They're nice."
But I didn't know what I was saying.
The day we left, the weather was beautiful.
Bright sunshine, almost blinding.
I held Leo's hand, dragged the suitcase, walked toward the airport.
Pierre and Mary stood at the shop entrance, waving.
"Safe travels!"
"We will!"
I turned my head, kept walking.
Leo asked questions the whole way.
"Mommy, can airplanes really fly above theclouds?"
"Really."
"Can we see the clouds?"
"Yes."
"What do clouds look like?"
"Soft and white."
"Can we touch them?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because..." I thought. "Because clouds are mysterious little sprites."
He nodded, half-understanding.
At the airport, we checked in, went through security, and waited at the gate.
Leo kept staring at the planes outside the window, eyes full of excitement.
"Mommy, is that the one we're taking?"
"No."
"Is it that one?"
