Chapter 6 - Rain on My Shirt in the Side Hallway
The cold hit me first. Not the arch or the lights or Claire's face. Just the wet cotton sticking to my back while I stood behind Dad.
My hair dripped onto my collar. My top clung damp at the shoulders. I could feel every drop slide down my neck while Dad's hand stayed on my arm to keep me upright. He had felt it too. I saw the second he noticed.
It had started raining an hour earlier. Hard, sideways rain that turned the sidewalk dark outside the apartment.
We had been in the back bedroom all morning with the door closed. My sister sat on the mattress with her legs pulled up. We heard carts rolling. Doors opening. A woman's voice saying we needed to be ready to move to the church.
I didn't know what church. I just knew Claire said Dad was getting married that day and we were not supposed to be seen.
The van ride across town smelled like wet carpet and flowers. The windows fogged up. I wiped a spot clear with my sleeve and watched the city go past. Buses. A gas station. Streets I knew. Not Portugal. Never Portugal. My sister whispered that it looked like the street near our school and I told her to be quiet because I was scared the driver would hear.
When we got to the back of the building, a woman in a black dress took us through a side door. The hallway was narrow and warm. There were racks of white linens and a mirror with bulbs around it. She told us to stay in the small room and not come out until someone came for us.
My sister sat on the folding chair. Her shoes were wet. Mine were soaked through from running under the awning from the parking lot. Water pooled under us. The woman handed us paper towels and then left to help with the ceremony. We could hear music through the wall. Low and steady.
I looked at my sister and she looked at me. She was shaking. Not crying. Just cold and quiet.
I said I was going to find Dad.
She grabbed my sleeve and said no. She said Claire told us he didn't want us there. She said we would get in trouble.
I told her I had seen his name on the program on the cart outside the room. Daniel. Typed in gold letters next to Claire's. I knew he was in the next room. I knew if I didn't go then, I would lose my chance.
I slipped out while the music got louder. The hallway bent to the right toward light. I could hear chairs shifting. People standing. I kept my back to the wall and moved until I saw the white arch.
Then I saw him.
He stood at the front in a black tuxedo. His hair was shorter than I remembered. He faced Claire in her white lace dress with long sheer sleeves and a veil pinned into her blonde updo. For a second I couldn't breathe because he looked so close and so far at the same time.
Claire saw me first. Her eyes went wide. She whispered, "Sophie, don't, Daniel, please, not here."
Dad turned.
His eyes found my wet hair. My damp top. My hands shaking at my sides. He stepped toward me without thinking and his hand came out to steady me when my foot slipped on the polished floor.
"You've never been to Portugal," I said. My voice trembled so bad I barely got it out. I meant to say more. I meant to say we had been here the whole time.
May you like
He pulled me behind him. His palm was warm against my cold arm. He looked down once at the water dripping from my hair onto the floor and then back at Claire.
That was when he understood we hadn't come from far away. We had come from across the city in the rain. That my sister was still in that side room in her wet shoes. That we were both inside this building right now and we had nowhere warm to go.
