Chapter 8 - The Dinner
Saturday arrived. Daniel looked thinner, his face etched with the lines of his recent failures.
He walked into my house like he was entering a holy place.
He didn't rush to Noah. He waited.
Noah eventually looked up from his book. He looked at his father with a caution that broke my heart.
"Hi, Dad," Noah said.
"Hi, Noah," Daniel said, his voice trembling. "I’m sorry."
The dinner was tense. There were no jokes, no stories about the "good old days." Just the sound of forks on plates and the weight of two years of neglect filling the room.
But by the end of the meal, Daniel had actually listened to Noah talk about his science project. He didn't interrupt. He didn't look at his watch.
May you like
He was present.
It was a small start, but a start nonetheless.
