I looked over his shoulder.
The man from security was walking through arrivals too.
He saw me with Mark.
Saw the kids. Saw Dad.
For a second, our eyes met.
He gave the smallest nod.
I nodded back.
Then he kept walking.
Mark looked between us.
“Do you know that guy?”
I smiled. “Not really.”
Dad laughed.
Mark frowned. “What?”
“It’s a long story.”
My son tugged my sleeve.
“Will you tell us when we get home?”
I looked at Dad.
Dad looked at me.
Mark sighed. “Oh no. I think that’s an adult story.”
I said, “I’m sure Grandpa has other stories to tell you.”
Dad said, “A lot more interesting ones.”
That night, after the kids finally stopped climbing all over my father and everyone went to bed, I thought about the whole thing again.
I still don’t know why that man cut in front of me.
Maybe he was impatient.
