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The Fountain of Youth

That first time being on an airplane was like nothing Melanie had ever experienced. The power as they took off was sheer and amazing and the bumps as they ascended into the sky terrifying. She held her mother’s hand. Melanie had the middle seat, between her mother and Irene, and while Irene would not trade with her, she did not complain about Melanie leaning into her lap for most of the flight so she could watch the plane’s shadow glide across the tops of the clouds. Melanie was surprised that her mother had agreed to the trip and surprised that she allowed Melanie to skip school. They deplaned in Fort Lauderdale and took a shuttle to a beachy resort, Irene leading the charge. Melanie was overwhelmed by the shimmer of heat coming off of the concrete around her and the rows of stucco apartment buildings, layered like birthday cake along the highway. Their hotel was pretty and cool, and there was an uncorked bottle of white wine sweating on a chrome tray. Irene immediately poured herself a drink and Melanie’s mother, Kathleen, told her to change into her bathing suit. Irene went to the balcony to smoke, and Melanie undressed as wisps of tobacco blew into the room. “See,” Melanie heard Irene call to her mother. “This is what I am talking about.”