“Andrea,” he said as he looked up, appearing unsure of whether he should sound happy to see me.
“Hi, Dad,” I replied softly.
“You made it,” he said while keeping his eyes on the papers in front of him. “That’s good.”
Gladys leaned against the doorway and watched us like she was supervising a difficult task. “We are on a very tight timeline, so the hall needs this final seating chart by noon today.”
My father nodded and kept his attention on the list as if the paper were safer than looking at me. “Are you coming to the ceremony tonight?” he asked without lifting his head.
“I am here for you, Dad,” I told him.
His jaw tightened as if he wanted to say something else, but the words seemed to die before he could speak them. My father was not a cruel man, but he was very practiced at avoiding conflict with his wife.
“Of course she is coming,” Gladys interrupted with a sweet tone. “She will sit quietly in the back row, won’t you, Andrea?”
“I will be exactly where I need to be,” I replied.
“Good,” Gladys said as she pointed toward the sink. “Then you can start helping me with these dishes.”