“That’s because they’re horses.” “Where are the camels?” “How should I know?” “You’re the one who said there’d be camels all over the place.” “I did not!” “You did so!” What a dandy way to start a honeymoon, I thought as I came into the parlor of the suite. My daughter, Caron, and her best friend, Inez, were on the balcony, engaged in what was clearly an argument of cosmic significance. I felt as if I’d been flattened by a giant waffle iron. The three of us had left Farberville many hours ago, possibly even days ago. We’d flown to Dallas, then Atlanta, then Frankfurt, followed by a six-hour layover and a flight to Cairo. After an interminable time snaking through customs at that airport, we’d flown on to Luxor. A lovely man whose name I did not remember had met us at the gate, collected our luggage, and whisked us to the hotel. Although the sun was still shining, I’d brushed my teeth and collapsed in bed. Now, showered and wearing the terry-cloth bathrobe I’d found in the bathroom, I joined the girls on the balcony.
