So who exactly was this “Dad” standing before me?
Panicked, I called out for Mom. She was upstairs in the bathroom taking a shower.
Hearing my cries, she asked what was going on.
I hesitated for a moment, but then told her everything truthfully.
“Mom, Dad is back!”
“What?”
She let out a startled cry and a minute later, she came running out, still dripping wet and half-dressed.
She thought I was talking nonsense and was ready to scold me, until she saw Dad standing in the living room.
Dad smiled wearily and pulled a few stones out of his pocket. “Margaret, I’m back. You’ve worked so hard all these years, keeping the house together and taking care of our daughter. These are stones I brought back for you from Pinehill as a keepsake.”
He shoved the stones into Mom’s hands, but she flinched in fear.
With a dull thud, the stones fell to the floor.
Mom stared blankly at the stones, her expression suddenly filled with panic.
Her lips pressed tightly together and I couldn’t tell whether she was afraid of Dad—or of the stones.
But Dad kept smiling as if his face could only hold one expression— that eerie smile.
Yet somehow, that clumsy, tone-deaf attempt at romance… was just like the old him.