- RAYA -
Dad sweeps into the resort quietly like he does in every other context of life—no big production, not eager to cause a scene. I wonder if he would prefer that we pretend he's not here until he shows up at the ceremony tomorrow.
The thought gives me a little twinge of pain in my chest, and I shake it away in frustration. Why am I allowing thoughts like that? I guess Rory's feelings about our father are infectious. That's all it is.
Dad loves me. It's never been a problem for me that these invisible boundaries exist around our everyday lives and that we only seem to come together for the big, important things. If it did bother me once, it was long ago.
Now I'm comfortable being independent, on my own, not incessantly bothered for details or news from an overbearing parent who checks in all the time. That's what I tell myself. How would I know, though? How would I know what that's like?
