Takeoffs and Landings Read Online Free PDF

Mom.
    Then Lori giggled at her own reflection. She felt too good now to get all bent out of shape about a stupid mirror. She had control of herself again. She could handle this trip. She’d even—almost—had fun today.
    They’d had lunch in an outdoor café, walked along some river, looked at skyscrapers. They were going to go up inside a building that was or used to be (or something) the tallest in the world. But then Mom got worried that the elevator might upset Chuck’s stomach again.
    It figured that Chuck would ruin things. But Lori didn’t care. The first day of the trip was almost over. She had only thirteen more days, and then she’d be home again planning swim parties with Angie and Dana, discussing boys with Courtney and Bree, going to movies and 4-H meetings and all-county dances.
    That was the way to think about this trip.
    Mom knocked on the bathroom door.
    â€œI need to be down there in a few minutes. Want me to go ahead? Someone at the door can tell you where to go.”
    Lori decided her lips looked good enough.
    â€œNo, no. I’m ready.” All her resolutions aside, something about this glitzy hotel made her want to stick close to Mom and Chuck. It was so big, Lori thought she’d never find herself if she got lost.
    She didn’t want to have to ask anyone for directions.
    Lori came out of the bathroom, then it was Chuck’s turn. He didn’t have to do anything but wet down his hair (which made it look greasy) and tuck his shirt into his dress pants. It was untucked again in five seconds, because the material had to strain so hard to make it over Chuck’s stomach.
    Lori looked away, toward Mom.
    Even Lori had to admit she looked great.
    Mom was the sort of tiny woman who could look like a little girl dressing up in her mother’s clothes if she wasn’t careful. Lori had said that to her once.
    â€œWhat am I supposed to do? Draw wrinkles on my face?” Mom had said.
    Mom had practically the same pixie haircut as in the first-grade picture of her Gram and Pop still kept hanging in their living room. But tonight she’d used strategic amounts of gel on it. Her dark eyes were highlighted with a precision that Lori’s fashion magazines would praise. Her purple suit was classy—not too prim, not too outrageous.
    Lori practically approved.
    Not that you’d ever catch her saying so.
    â€œLet’s go then,” Mom said. She looked both kids up and down, then turned on her heel for the door.
    You might have told us that we looked good, Lori thought. Or at least me. She’d crumpled the homemade sundress into the bottom of her suitcase hours ago (maybe explaining why she’d felt better all afternoon). Now she wore one of those ankle-length floral dresses just about everyone owned. Pure polyester, Gram would have said, but who cared?
    Lori followed Mom and Chuck onto a glass elevator overlooking a lobby many floors below. Even through the elevator, they could hear tinkly music being played on the grand piano, right next to an indoor waterfall.
    Fancy-schmancy, Pop would call it. In spite of herself, Lori liked it. She remembered a song Pop had sung for her once when she was doing a family history project for school: “How Are They Gonna Keep Them Down on the Farm Once They’ve Seen Paree?” Pop’s own grandfather had sung it to him, because he’d fought in World War I. “Paree” was really Paris, and Pop’s grandfather had really gone there during the war, but he’d hated it. “Filthy people, filthy houses, filthy food, and nobody can talk right. Plus, all those so-called French beauties ain’t any prettier than spit,” had been his report on the city, according to Pop. “Give me the farm any day.”
    Lori had always been inclined to side with her great-great-grandfather. Chicago wasn’t Paris, of course, and it wasn’t so bad to visit. Just so you got to go home