unexpected happens that they haven’t been given a framework for — the specific confused attention of people who are recalibrating their understanding of a situation in real time. I moved through the row toward the aisle. Someone had to move their feet to let me pass.
Nobody made airplane noises.
Admiral Carter met us at the foot of the stage steps.
He extended his hand to my mother first, and they shook with the ease of people who have a history I was not yet fully privy to, a history I
was putting together in real time the way you put together a picture you’ve been looking at the pieces of separately.
“Rachel,” he said.
“Admiral,” she said.
He looked at me.
“You must be Lucas,” he said. “Your mother talks about you.”
I did not know what to say to this. I said: “Yes, sir.”
He smiled — a real one, which was not what I expected from a face that composed itself so carefully. “Good things,” he said. “Only good things.”
We went up the steps.
Principal Harris had the
