My eyes went red in an instant.
"Dad, does your back hurt?"
My father let out two quick laughs. "It doesn't hurt, don't worry, not even a little."
But the next second, someone on the other end of the line snapped impatiently:
"Hey, old man, can you not block the aisle?"
My mother hurried to smooth it over.
"Sorry, so sorry, his back's bad, he's a little slow."
My grip on the phone tightened, little by little.
I could almost picture them.
My father, one hand braced on a seat, unable to straighten his back.
My mother shielding the luggage with one arm while apologizing to a stranger with the other.
They'd never once flown in their lives.
Yet before this trip, they'd been as excited as two children.
Half a month ago, I'd gone home to get our household papers.
My father was standing in front of the mirror, trying on a suit.
He'd saved a month's pay to buy it, said he couldn't embarrass me at the wedding.
The cuffs ran an inch too long, and the shoulders didn't fit right.
But he still smiled and asked me:
"Sweetheart, going to the resort island like this, will I make you lose face?"
My mother packed the dried fish, the pickled radish, and the homemade peanut brittle into the suitcase, bag by bag.
"It's the first time meeting all those relatives on the in-laws' side. We can't show up empty-handed."
"Your husband's good to you, so we have to mind our manners too."
Back then I'd laughed at how seriously they took it.
I told them, "Karl's got it all arranged. You two just follow me."
When my mother heard that, her eyes lit up.
The next day she told everyone she met:
"My daughter's getting married on a resort island."
"Her husband-to-be's flying us out there."
But now.
They hadn't gotten on the plane.
They didn't even have a boarding pass to their name.
On the other end of the line, my mother was still gingerly coaxing me.
On the phone, she was still trying to calm me down.
"Alice, don't be upset."
"Your husband's work keeps him busy. Arranging for all these people isn't easy."
"Us two old folks taking the train, we can even save a little money."
I closed my eyes for a moment.
"Mom, get off the train."
"This wedding, I'm calling it off."
My mother was terrified.
"Don't talk nonsense."
"Your dad and I are perfectly fine on the train. Don't be stubborn."
But I couldn't listen anymore.
I hung up and turned to leave.
Karl grabbed my arm.
"Where are you going?"
"To pick up my parents."
His face darkened.
"We're boarding any minute. If you leave, what happens to the wedding?"
I looked at him.
"My parents won't even be there. What wedding is there to hold?"
Nellie's mother gave a soft little cough.
Karl let go of me at once, turning to drape his coat over her shoulders.
"Ma'am, is the air conditioning too cold for you?"
The motion was practiced and attentive.
I stood where I was, and suddenly even confronting him felt pointless.
So it turned out he knew the elderly were frail and shouldn't be put through hardship.
He knew, too, that older folks needed looking after.
It was only that all this thoughtfulness.
Had never once been spared for my parents.
Karl turned back, his tone short.
"Alice, stop making a scene."
"I've already arranged things for your parents."
I gently pulled my hand free.
A thirty-some-hour economy coach seat ticket.
A route that meant transferring to a bus and then a boat.
And my parents, the whole way, gingerly covering for him to save his face.
This was his arrangement.
I was just about to leave the airport when my phone rang again.
My mother, still.
This time, her voice was even more panicked than before.
"Alice... it looks like we can't take the train."
My heart sank hard.
"What do you mean, you can't take the train?"
It was loud on the other end, an attendant's impatient voice cutting through.
