The table was set with a spread of food.There was steak, seafood, vegetables, and so on.They were some of my favorite foods when I was a kid.My father was seated at the head of the table. He looked better than I expected. He had put on a little weight and seemed full of energy.He glanced at me and muttered, “Sit.”I sat down, and my mother piled my plate high with food.No one mentioned those three years.No one even mentioned Layla.It was as if nothing had ever happened.But that was not quite true.My father’s hand trembled slightly as he served me some steak. The piece nearly fell onto the table.His hands had not been steady since his heart bypass surgery.I looked down as I ate. My eyes stung with tears.This was the most peaceful meal I had in three years.Halfway through the meal, my father suddenly blurted out, “That Weiss girl came by again last month.”My hands paused for a second.“Oh?”“Your mom didn’t open the door.”“Mm-hmm…”“She left a box at the
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