driving us to the airport.
Dad grew noticeably tense as the terminal appeared ahead. His hands rested motionless on his knees, but his jaw tightened.
Before leaving, Beth hugged him and whispered to me, “Please stay close. He gets confused in busy places.”
“I will.”
Inside the terminal, the noise seemed overwhelming.
Suitcase wheels rattled across polished floors. Children cried. Announcements echoed overhead.
Dad stopped just beyond the entrance.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
He inhaled slowly.
“Perfectly fine. Let’s get moving.”
We checked his suitcase and entered the security line.
