Rick had taken Llara's suitcase out of the car. She had not been allowed to take it with her when she was deported from Spain. My daughter admits she doesn't know how to pack light. My suitcase for over a month was about half the size of hers for a week, although Christmas presents were involved.
We had checked out prices on shipping it back and FedEx was the best choice.
"But we are clients."
"You still need to go to the airport."
"But was want to ship something today," I said.
He apologized.
Not so fast.
They won't accept a suitcase.
They didn't have a box big enough to put the suitcase. Llara never travels light and we'd added the Christmas presents we didn't get a chance to give her.
"Can we put it in other boxes?"
The man smiled. "Bien sûre."
Only FedEx has no boxes.
We felt we needed to go on a carton search. Then walking home from La Noisette after a writing session with Lydia, a man stepped out of his front door, the perfect carton in hand.
My life has always been like this, when I need something it seems to appear.
We can take the suitcase to Montreal when we meet up in the fall.
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