Chapter 183: Arrival
The flight landed at two forty in the afternoon.
The city from the descent looked exactly like itself, which was something Sean hadn’t fully appreciated about coming home until he’d been somewhere else first. Paris from the air had looked like Paris, deliberate and considered and entirely aware of its own significance. Home from the air looked like somewhere people actually lived, the specific unglamorous honesty of a city that had stopped trying to impress anyone a long time ago.
He found it, unexpectedly, something close to beautiful.
Vanessa was looking out the window beside him with the expression she’d had most of the flight back, somewhere between the Paris version of herself and the version that existed in the store and finding that the two were closer together now than they’d been on the way out.
"It looks different coming back," she said.
"From Paris everything probably looks different," said Sean.
"No," she said. "I mean it looks more like home than it did before I left." She paused. "That’s new."
Sean looked at her.
She was still looking out the window. "I’ve come back from Paris trips before and the city just looked like the city. Like the place where the work happened." She turned from the window. "This time it looks like somewhere I actually want to be."
"Is that because of Paris," said Sean.
Vanessa looked at him for a moment. "No," she said simply.
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James was at arrivals before they came through the doors, which was James being James, the specific professional certainty of someone who had never once needed to be told how to be exactly where he was needed before he was needed there.
He took Vanessa’s bag from her without being asked, which made her look at him with the brief evaluating attention she gave everything, and then look at Sean.
"He does that," said Sean.
"I gathered," said Vanessa.
"Good afternoon, Ms. Chen," said James. "Mr. Miller." He looked at them both once, the efficient assessment of someone who understood the situation completely and had decided the correct response was to carry the bag and say nothing else.
They walked to the car together through the terminal’s afternoon energy, travelers moving in both directions around them, the specific ambient noise of arrivals that was the same in every airport in every city and somehow still distinct from every other kind of noise.
Vanessa stopped at the car.
She looked at the city visible through the terminal doors behind them and then at James holding her bag and then at Sean.
"I keep expecting the weekend to feel further away than it does," she said.
"It’s a few hours ago," said Sean.
"I know," she said. "But those kinds of weekends usually start fading on the plane. This one hasn’t." She looked at him with the direct version of her attention, the one without professional management around it. "I’m noting that."
Sean looked at her. "Good."
James opened the rear door.
They got in.
—------------------
The city moved past the windows in its usual way, Vanessa sat beside Sean with her shoulder against his.
After about fifteen minutes Vanessa said, "Sarah texted me forty-seven times while we were in the air."
"About what," said Sean.
"She described them as important administrative updates," said Vanessa. "They are not administrative updates. She wants to know how Paris was."
"What are you going to tell her," said Sean.
Vanessa considered this seriously. "I’m going to tell her the collection was well received and the campaign shoot produced excellent material."
"And the rest," said Sean.
"The rest," said Vanessa, "she will determine herself within approximately four minutes of seeing my face, so the specific content of what I tell her is somewhat academic." She paused. "She’s going to be insufferable about it."
"She’s going to say I told you so," said Sean.
"She’s been saying I told you so since you walked into the store without an appointment," said Vanessa. "She is going to consider this a comprehensive vindication of every position she has held since that day."
"Is she wrong," said Sean.
Vanessa looked at him. "No," she said. "She is thoroughly and completely not wrong, which is going to make it significantly worse."
Sean smiled.
—--------------------------------------
James pulled up outside Élite Fashion at three forty.
The store was closed, Sunday hours, but the lights inside were on which meant Sarah was there, which meant Sarah had calculated the flight time and arrival window and had been in the store for the last hour at minimum.
Vanessa looked at the lit store window from the car.
"She’s in there," said Vanessa.
"Yes," said Sean.
"She’s been in there for a while," said Vanessa.
"Probably since before we landed," said Sean.
Vanessa looked at him. "You two are going to be a problem."
"We agree on things," said Sean.
"That’s exactly the problem," said Vanessa.
James got out and came around to open her door and she stepped out onto the pavement, her coat settling around her in the specific way of someone who wore good things naturally, and turned back to Sean who had gotten out the other side.
The Sunday street was quiet around them. The city doing its afternoon things with the particular ease of a day that wasn’t asking anything of anyone specifically.
Vanessa stood in front of him on the pavement outside her store and looked at Sean with a smile shown on her face.
"Thank you," she said. "For everything the weekend was."
"You already said that," said Sean.
"I know," she said. "I’m saying it again because it deserves more than one."
She stepped forward and kissed him.
When she pulled back she was smiling.
"I’ll call you about the campaign edits this week," she said.
"Is that actually what you’ll call about," said Sean with a smile shown on his face.
She smiled and said "we won’t know until then "
Picked up her bag.
Then she raised her hand in a small wave and turned and walked to the store entrance and pushed through the door.