"Are your parents exhausted?" Daji asks, flopping down on the bed in our suite hours later.
Joining her on the bed, I prepare to make massage magic with her feet. "Their whole lives have been turned upside down and they embraced the disruption. Who wouldn't be tired? And speaking of disruption ..."
She rolls her eyes in bliss as I work the tension and soreness out of her delicate feet. "I know, i know, I should have told you, privately."
"That's not really your style, my love," I murmur. "You tend to favor the big gestures. You're a bigger-than-life personality."
"True, but I do have some delicacy and tact, and don't laugh."
"Oh, not laughing." It's true. I only have to suppress a few giggles, and they feel like soda bubbles that I'm holding back on burping because it's bad timing. "Honestly, my parents got information overload, but that's not your fault--they showed up unexpectedly."
