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My father didn’t laugh. He simply looked at me and replied,
“You don’t understand, Linda. This day is much more important than you think.”
At the time, I didn’t pay much attention to his words. If I had known what was waiting for me just a few hours later, I might
never have returned home so peacefully.
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That evening, after all the guests had left, my mother was in the kitchen when my father approached me.
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“Emily, can you come to my bedroom for a minute?”
“Why, Dad?”
He glanced toward the kitchen.
“We need to talk privately.”
His voice was so serious that my smile disappeared.
I followed him upstairs. As soon as we entered the room, he closed the door.
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Then he turned toward me and said a sentence I still remember word for word.