Originally Posted: April 16, 2014
I was so excited to see my brother. I regressed an embarrassing amount when I knew I was going to get to see my brother. Well, it would have been embarrassing, but—screw it, it was my big brother, and I was happy to see him. He’d certainly seen me be more embarrassing in the past.
“Do you want me to go ahead and take your bags?” My husband asked as we walked out of the gate, shaking me out of my bubble of “almost home” excitement.
“Well, I know as soon as you see Nathan at the end of the terminal, you’re going to want to take off running. I figure if I go ahead and take your bags now we can avoid you over balancing and the sprained ankle incident of ‘O7, or we can avoid you dropping them, running away, and the TSA questioning of 2010. So, do you want to go ahead and give me your bags?”
I gave him a sheepish smile and went to refuse, but he held out his hand and gave me a little “give me” gesture. I handed him the two little carry-on bags with a quick, “I love you.”
“And don’t you forget it. Now, let’s go, let’s not keep your corny little reunion waiting any longer.” And he picked up the pace a little bit.
We rounded the corner and I could see the end of the terminal where people were waiting just on the other side of where the security check point started. Nathan was easy to pick out, six-foot three with some vivid red hair, he was very hard to miss in a crowd. I could see he was smiling at me. I leaned in to give my husband one last thank you kiss on the cheek and then took off running.
Nathan caught me around the waist, lifting me into the air and swinging me around like I weighed nothing. I guess in comparison; my five two petite frame did weigh nothing to him. “No bags, Marcy? Are we going to be taken in for questioning again?”
“Hank’s got ‘em.” I laughed as Nathan set me down gently on my feet.
“Ah—Hank. Now the husband Hank. How fun. Where is Hank the no longer boyfriend?” There was an edge to Nathan’s voice that I hadn’t expected.
“Coming out of the terminal at a normal pace like a sane human being.” I gave a little wave and Hank nodded back at me, his hands full. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re a little hung up on the face that Hank and I got married, Nate?”
“Hung up? No—not really. Surprised? Sure. Intrigued as to what sparked this sudden step forward after standing still for eight years? Certainly. Shocked that you eloped without us? A bit. But I wouldn’t say hung up.” Nate gave a quick overly nonchalant shrug. “Let me see those rings of yours, hmm? Does Hank the Husband have good taste?”
I held up my hand automatically, but my mind was racing. Nathan gave my engagement ring and wedding band a close look and then gave me an encouraging smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I just need to know now, Nathan. Is this going to be an issue between us?”
Nathan’s expression softened. “Are you happy, Marce?”
“Well then,” Nathan’s smile was genuine this time, “We’ll have plenty of issues between us. But you being happy will never be one of them. Deal?”
“Deal.” He leaned over and kissed me on the top of the head as Hank reached the end of the terminal and joined us.