My Father Smirked and Told the Wedding Guests

My father was still near the dance floor with the microphone hanging at his side like a dead fish.

At one point I thought he might cross the room.

He didn’t.

Instead my sister did.

Emily came alone, bouquet gone, veil removed, eyes pink around the edges from either crying or holding it off.

“Can we talk?” she asked.

“We’re talking.”

She closed her eyes for continue reading …