Ezoic
My father looked at me.
“Talk,” he said. “Now you want to talk.”
“Dad,” I said. “You drove nine hours to my house. Without calling. With everything you own in the back of your car. And you were going to move in without telling me why.”
He didn’t say anything.
“That’s not talking,” I said. “That’s an ambush.”
We sat at my kitchen table.
All of us. Six adults. Well. Five adults and my father, who sat at the head of the table like he always does. Out of habit. Then looked around and realized it wasn’t his table. And moved one chair down.
Ben took the kids to the porch. To sit with Deputy Hale. Poppy wanted to see his badge.
The kitchen was still a disaster.
Ezoic
The empty Château Margaux on the counter. Wine glasses. Doritos.
Ezoic
The sun was starting to come up over the ocean. Pink and gold through the window over the sink. The pelicans were out. Skimming the waves.
