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&nbsp;As the fasten seat belt sign alerted passengers of final descent, the JFK airport's landing lights glittered like fireflies in an ink-blue darkness. While women searched through handbags as full as Thanksgiving turkeys and men checked their watches to make sure they were on time, the cabin lights faded as youngsters woke up from the painful sleep of a long journey.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Jules tried to stifle the sense of unease that had been simmering inside her like pasta while she viewed the scene through the eyes of an intruder. She was aware that her first visit to her husband's family would never be simple; the&nbsp;stark cultural contrasts between them were just two of the challenges she would face.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Then, reluctantly, she reached inside her suitcase and took out shawl. It was the brightest shade of yellow she could find, and when she framed it into position, the delicate cream and red flower heads that were embroidered around the borders sat well across her brow. Jules was adamant that she would wear something other than black, something cheerful, no matter what. She was not mourning leaving Ireland rather celebrating a new start.&nbsp;She applied some new gloss to her parched lips as she opened her compact and examined her pallid image in the mirror. It was surprisingly pleasant to be so open-faced, and Jules eased herself into her seat for the landing as hazel eyes with rust flecks peered back and a few auburn tendrils made a defiant escape at her temples. Max stood next to her, gazing at the bright lights of New York through the window. It was likely to be as difficult for him as it would be for her, she thought as she felt the gentle pressure of his fingers on her thigh.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Jules closed her eyes and tried to focus on something other than their impending arrival as the jet started to descend its mass earthward. The final arrangements proved to be anything but simple, and it had been a long and frequently difficult journey to get here. For a short while, it would have been pleasant to be free of anxiety. Even though she had loved her spouse for all the years they had been together, she was unable to ignore the cynical voices in her native country. People they knew who enjoyed sowing doubt wherever they could.&nbsp;&nbsp;"What if, once he gets you there, he changes?" from a purported buddy who had known Max for a number of years. And many iterations of the phrase "he is rich and too good for you" have come from other people. She was already aware that Max, a multimillionaire and extremely successful merchant banker, was her true love. Nevertheless, the harshness of the comments had hurt.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Indeed, on their visit to her home in Wicklow, Ireland, Jules had previously met her in-laws. Then it had been in her home country and on her terms, which was a very different situation from the one she was going to accept. This didn't seem to matter much when she first met her mother and father-in-law because she was on her own territory, but now her lack of communication had a completely different meaning. As a result, Jules felt exposed and vulnerable, much like a little child starting school and ready to release her mother's hand and enter a foreign world.&nbsp;&nbsp;Jules realised with a start that the plane had touched down when she heard the sudden whoosh of the engines' reverse thrust. She wondered what was going through Max's mind as he continued to stare out the window, his face unreadable even in the cabin's sudden bright lighting. After all, he was going back to his homeland to establish a business in Ireland after a ten-year absence. He had been often tempted to return to New York, but he had a number of complex reasons for not doing so. Jules took some solace in the fact that they would now be tackling their difficulties together.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The plane kept taxiing slowly through the darkness as fathers started yanking luggage out of overhead lockers and sternly telling their children to be seated, all the while ignoring the still-illuminated seatbelt sign. Jules started to pay more attention to her fellow travellers as the excitement in the air crackled through the aisles like noiseless static. She watched them jealously. For the most part, they knew what awaited them when they returned to their home ground, The Big Apple. Jules reflected on her own childhood in Wicklow, a place of calm and tranquillity where life moved slowly and comfortingly.&nbsp;Although he had the option of choosing American socialite brides, she had never quite comprehended what Max had seen in her from the start. Her husband abruptly turned from the window to his wife and enquired, "Are you okay?" She sensed the comforting touch of his fingers.&nbsp; &nbsp;"Obviously," she replied. "That's all—it's been a long flight." As she spoke, the gradual weight of exhaustion appeared to give way and drain her remaining energy from her bones. "Jules, don't worry. After we clear passport control, it will be easy to bring you to my parents' house so that we can both sleep well. You'll be alright. His dialect was now difficult to distinguish; it still occasionally had a faint New York accent, but more often than not it had an Irish twang, which was not surprising considering how long he had lived in Dublin.&nbsp;&nbsp; At the end of what felt like an endless queue came passport control.&nbsp;The authorities' expressions, which were similar to those they had already seen during their transfer through Heathrow, were one thing that most likely wouldn't change.&nbsp;That kind of scrutiny somehow succeeded in making someone feel bad even when they weren't. Undoubtedly, by the time the current queue had threaded its way through the passport booths and it was their turn, Jules's sweaty cotton top was sucked uncomfortable into her armpits and her heartbeat was pounding a hole in her chest.&nbsp; &nbsp;The two passports were placed in front of a young woman who sat behind the glass partition, clad in a military-style outfit. Her face's skin didn't move, but her eyes raised to glance at Max, then at Jules, and finally back at Max. She was suddenly overwhelmed with sympathy, and her downward pout reminded Jules of a runway model, austere and humourless, as if no happy had ever dared to touch it with warmth. She pondered whether this woman had kids, how she behaved at home, and whether her husband, like Max, nestled his head in the hollow of her shoulder every night before bed.&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;"This is your wife's first time in America." Although the woman's voice was not disagreeable, her eyes remained harsh and her jaw line obstinately fixed. "Yes," Max said, immediately switching back to his own New York accent. His normally gregarious demeanour was repressed by the necessity to limit small conversation in the current situation.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;Mrs. Jefferson, this is your first visit." Eva was taken aback. Even though she hadn't done anything wrong, she wasn't ready for any questioning to be directed at her and was afraid she may respond badly. Already, like the fizz of uncorked soda, the hairs at the back of her neck were tingling. "Yes" she said softly. Thank you so much," she said nervously.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;This attempt at courteous consideration caused the corners of the official's mouth to quiver with barely noticeable delight. The two passports lingered in her fingers for a moment, and then there were two sharp thuds as the other brought down the stamp on the pages that had been unsealed. She said, "Welcome to America."&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;Jules allowed herself to feel the relief. She was aware that these were absurd and nonsensical ideas, but she had half expected them to be arrested and questioned for just daring to enter the country from Ireland. As she approached the flickering exit sign, she was resolved to give this place, which has such an amazing and varied history that it puts other countries to shame, a chance. The most of her fear had been woven from stereotypes that had been ingrained in her by the media at home. When she first saw the Big Apple, her senses were startled and her step inadvertently loosened. &nbsp;Her father-in-law and other family members were standing next to her brother-in-law in the crush of bodies, their eyes frantically searching the arriving passengers for their own flesh and blood. Jules noticed her brother-in-law immediately, his appearance and manner so similar to her husband's. Jules instantly felt Max's hold on her loosen, as if the safety net of their connection had been abruptly lifted and he, not she, had been set free.&nbsp; &nbsp;However, he was gently pushing her ahead while gleefully yelling, "We are arrived! We are home! At last, her family was greeting her home as they led her out into the night, where far-off city lights illuminated the way to her new life.

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Every Cloud Has A Silver Lining

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Every Cloud Has A Silver Lining

siobhan

Siobhan M Whelan

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