“Mom’s sitting at the computer with her phone to her ear. She doesn’t see me. Just like he didn’t see me. Not really. He was looking into my eyes, but in his mind he was seeing her. Why does that bother me? I slam the door, flop onto my bed and curl up on my side. My heart pounds in my ears. The idea of me and Danny is absurd. Nothing good would come of us being together. That’s the truth of the matter. Just look at Mom and Dad. When I was a kid—maybe four or five years old—I watched my parents ...dancing. I don’t remember where we were, and I’ve never asked. I don’t want them to spoil it. In my memory, there are trees with twinkling lights and candles on tables. Mom’s dress swishes around as she and Dad sway in circles. He holds her right hand like it’s a delicate thing, and his left arm is wrapped around her waist. He tucks her hand against his chest and she rests her chin on his shoulder. Their eyes are closed. They were together. They were happy. And now look at them, ten years later.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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