Epilogue Home At Last
Two years later…
Families embrace around us in the airport lobby. Businesspeople rush by with their shiny shoes and thick briefcases. The overhead speakers announce flight changes and advertise for restaurants in the terminals.
“Check again,” Ace mumbles, bouncing beside me.
The nervous energy is infectious. I huff and pull up the flight-tracking app on my phone.
“They’ve landed, still disembarking.”
He groans. “Why does it take so long to just get off an airplane?”
I pull down a deep breath and hum my calming tune. The music fills me up, taking away all the feelings of anxiety and leaving only excitement. Ace stops bouncing beside me and sighs.
“Thanks, I needed that. I’m just nervous, you know?” he says. “What if they don’t recognize me?”
“They’re going to recognize you,” I say.
“Only because I’m standing next to you. I’ve gotten two feet taller since last they saw me.”
“You are not two feet taller,” I say, scoffing.
“Twenty-one inches taller,” he corrects. “Almost two feet, so there. And I’m also six years older.”
“And you’re still their child. They will recognize you,” I say, putting a kibosh on the conversation.
“Are they here yet?” Rhazan asks, approaching with Nai Nai.
He’s in his bronze-skinned human form, and just as breath-taking as every other shape he takes. He’s holding a tray of coffee in one hand and a bag with little pastries in the other. Nai Nai is already munching on her blueberry scone.
“Landed,” I say for the third time. “Any moment now.”
He passes the bag off to Ace and then rubs my back with his free hand.
“It’s going to be great,” he says, smiling down at me.
I nod. “I know.”
I check my phone again. No changes. My gaze rakes across the terminal exit, hunting from face to face until finally, I see them.
Mama is in a jade green dress and black cardigan, her features bright and healthy. Baba strides behind her in a black suit, one hand on her lower back and the other on their luggage. He’s looking side to side, his eyes darting about like anyone could be a threat.
I suck down a gasp and throw my arms up in the air. “Mama! Baba!”
Ace does the same, and we both hop excitedly.
Their faces transform. Tears fill Mama’s eyes and a hardened resolve comes over Baba, like he’s trying not to cry. We rush to meet them in the middle, collapsing into a group hug that I never want to end.
My eyes burn and my laughter turns to crying, then back to laughter again. My beaten, broken heart is finally mended. Finally whole.
Finally at peace.