I blinked. “Outside?”
“It’s just 15 minutes.”
I could hear music. Kids running. Someone laughing.
I said, “Nick, I just came from the airport.”
“I know. We just want everything to be ready.”
Then he gave me that quick, distracted look people use when they want you to cooperate without asking too many questions.
“Please, Mom. Fifteen minutes.”
And then he closed the door.
I stood there staring at it.
So I waited.