The airport smells like a combination of lysol and buttered popcorn from the stand near the baggage claim, but the fresh air isn't any more inviting. i can see dad leaning on the hood of the station wagon talking to chris and making huge gestures with his hands. i watch them for a second gripping my duffel bag and backpack. chris is at least six feet now, his thin frame stretching through a t-shirt and corduroy jacket. three years ago his voice hadn't even started cracking, but i guess a lot of things have changed. dad looks like he lost weight or maybe i just remember him as bigger than me, and now he looks older. his cheeks are pale and heavy and his hair is whiter than the last time i was home. i don't particularly know why i'm here, but mom called and i couldn't really say no. which word from the passage above you identify the point of view? question 5 options: smells i mom his