Arriving

I can tell by the way Mama looks at herself

in the window, brushes her bangs to the side,

and runs her finger under her eyes

that we’ll be in Hillsborough soon,

where Papa, in the tweed coat he calls “professorial,”

will meet us.

She pops a wintergreen Life Savers in her mouth

and passes the roll to me.

I take one

because I want my kiss on Papa’s cheek to be fresh.

The bus slows down.

A barbershop, an insurance company,

a dentist’s office, a grocery store

all slide by. The air prickles

and everyone sits up straight and shifts in their seats,

finishes talking to the person next to them.

“Hillsborough coming up!” the driver calls.

The lady across the aisle winds up her yarn

and tucks her knitting into a tote bag. She looks at me again

and leans into the aisle. “Are you adopted?”

Nani?” Mama asks me. She must have been daydreaming

or she would have asked, “What?”

I whisper, “She wants to know where we’re going.”

Mama glances at the lady and turns into Mifune.

But before she can pretend she doesn’t speak English,

I say, “She’s my mom.”

The lady looks at me, then at Mama,

and shakes her head.

“No . . . she’s not your mother.”

The bus pulls up in front of a diner

and stops so quick

that we all jerk forward in our seats.

The driver cranks a handle and

the door hisses open.

He disappears outside

as cold air scampers down the aisle.

Papa is waiting in front of the diner

wearing his coat

and a red-and-gold scarf, Hillsborough College colors.

When he sees me inside the bus, he waves.

But I wave harder.

Outside, I hold his hand in his pocket

while he counts our suitcases—four plus my overnight case.

The icy air pinches my cheeks,

but my heart is warm.

He drapes his scarf around my throat

and says, “Now you’re the professor.”

The knitting lady steps down from the bus

for a breath of air.

“And this is my dad. See?” I say, and smile.

She looks at Papa, at Mama,

and back at me. Then,

not smiling, she says, “Yes, I see,”

and walks toward the diner.

When I know Mama and Papa can’t see me,

I stick out my tongue

so far that it hurts.