After two more weeks of messages and calls, Emily invited me to Richmond. She told me I could meet her husband and daughter if I felt ready.
I accepted it.
On the morning of leaving, my father drove me to the car. He was slowly recovering from the cardiac episode and still tired faster than before. My mother was sitting on the porch, with her arms crossed.
“Tell him I’m sorry,” my father said.
I looked at him.
I think it would mean more if you told him. And if you keep showing him that by deeds.
He has approved.
You are right.
I drove almost four hours, stopping twice because I was too excited to continue. When I got to the front of Emily’s house, I stayed for a few minutes in the car, looking at the blue door and the flower pots on the steps.
Then the door opened.
