“No. Why?”
“Did you argue with them?”
“Of course not.”
“Did you say anything that might have frightened them?”
His expression tightened.
“Who do you think I am?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
He turned to the sink and began rinsing a cup that was already clean.
I knew I had hurt him.
“I just want to understand,” I said.
“Me too.”
That evening, I called my best friend Rachel and asked her for a favor.
We had known each other since university.
Rachel was brutally honest.
She could charm an entire room, and yet she could also detect a lie before most people had even finished telling it.
If my father did something wrong, she would notice.
“Go on a date with him.”
She laughed.
“Are you kidding?”
“I’m serious.”
His laughter faded away.
