“Busy,” Dad said.
“When do you have to go back?”
He sighed. “Monday.”
“At least it’s warm there,” Grandma said.
Oma nodded but didn’t add anything. She was studying Dad with pursed lips.
The silence came back.
That’s the thing about silences. Sometimes they keep coming back.
“Anyone else want tea?”
“Sure.” Oma glanced at Grandma and then back at Dad. “You sure you’re doing okay, Stephen?”
“I’m sure.”
“All right.”
Grandma rested her hand on Dad’s shoulder. “You look tired.”
“Really. I’m fine, Mom.” Dad smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
What was happening?
There was some shrouded tension lurking in the kitchen, but I couldn’t figure out why, so I did what I always did and poured some tea.
“What’s this?”
“Dragonwell.” I handed Dad the mesh strainer of steeped leaves so he could smell. “Pan-roasted green tea. From China.”
Dad gave the leaves a long sniff. “It smells good.”
“Yeah.”
“Does it have much caffeine?”
“Not really.”
“Hmm. Better make something stronger next, so we can stay awake forStar Trek.”
“Really?”
Dad smiled, this time for real. He had dark bags under his eyes, and his hair was a mess, but for the first time since he’d been home, he looked like my dad again.
“Really.”
THE VISITOR
For as long as I could remember, Dad always had a rule: one episode a night, unless it’s a two-parter, and then we get to watch both parts. (Three-parters still get split up into three separate nights, for some inexplicable reason Dad refuses to disclose.)
But when we finished “The Way of the Warrior, Parts I & II”—where Worf fromThe Next Generationjoins the crew ofDeep Space Nine—Dad didn’t turn the TV off, or even stop the next episode from cuing up.
“We’ve got to make up for lost time.” Dad’s voice was hoarse, and he cleared his throat as he scooted closer to me. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “I’ve missed this.”
I cleared my own throat. “Me too.”
