I must’ve slept, because I felt a bump and then we were landing. It was sunset. It wasn’t snowing. It was summer. There were no cops, no questions, no calls from Josh. I felt like glass. At Immigration, I snagged Danny’s birth certificate when they handed it back. “S’okay. Sucker’s mine, right? I’ll feel safer.” I stuffed it into the same pocket as the money and jammed on my shades. We moved toward a sign that said CUSTOMS. Past it were blank sliding glass doors. Past them was anybody’s guess. I was ready to run. Shan grabbed my hand as we stepped through the doors. As I tried to shake her off, I heard “There!” People rushed us. I yelled and spun away, but Shan held tight. I flailed at her. Then I was drowning in people.
“Oh my GOD!”
“…thought we’d see the day…”
“…hoped and prayed…”
It was the family. Later I saw the pictures. They were carrying a Welcome Home banner. I had a sort-of smile that looked as if it had been glued to my teeth. I’d thought I’d shatter every time someone grabbed me.
The laughing, clapping, crying died down. Someone—Grampy, maybe—called out, “Let him talk! Danny. Whaddya got to say?”
I didn’t know if I could talk. I opened my mouth. Out came “Let’s eat.”
They laughed like they’d fall over.
“Whaddya feel like, tiger?” said a guy who was probably Uncle Pete.
“Wings,” I said. “What else?”
They laughed again.
Dinner at Boston Pizza went easy. No one asked too much. Mostly I said I was tired, which was true, kept my head down and listened hard. The only tricky bit came when we all sat down. I wasn’t passing up a free meal, but I’d made sure to take a chair that gave me an easy getaway. By then, I’d done some mental matching with the picture album. People were missing. I knew I had to ask.
“Hey,” I said. “Where’s Momma? And Ty?”
For a second no one answered. Then Uncle Pete said, “They couldn’t get off work. Ty’s up at General Packaging. And your mom is at the new grocery in Cobourg. What’s it called?”
“Green Leaf,” Gram said.
“She’s on steady nights, hon,” Shan said. “You’ll be staying with us for the time being. We don’t want you being alone.”
“Bummer,” I said. Then, “I mean, about them not being here.” They laughed again. I couldn’t believe it. I was starting to feel like a comedian.
By the time we hit the highway, I was beginning to wonder if I might just pull it off. Not forever, just long enough to get some money and make a plan. Danny would be sixteen on November 9. No one could come after me then. What if I slipped away into the States, left a note saying I loved them all but was just too messed up? Rolling along now, watching Cars with the kids on the DVD player in the van, I remembered one of the photos. It was of a younger, slimmer Shan, her arms around a skinny little Danny in soccer shorts. They were smiling, squinting into the sun, happy. All at once I got this power surge. I was going to pull it off. Know why? Because they wanted me to. I was making them happy. Feeling good is what we sell. If they wanted Danny, I’d give them Danny. Maybe I’d be happy too. I almost laughed at that. Maybe I did, because Shan turned around and winked at me. It was almost as if she knew what I was thinking.