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“He goes there every morning during the week to fold mailings and fill envelopes.

Greenhaven's been so good for him. He gets an incredible

amount of individualized attention. He has his own room, his own friends, his own life.”

After a minute I said, “But he's part of the family, Dad. And it just doesn't seem right that he's

never been over for a visit. Not even on Christmas or

Thanksgiving!”

“He doesn't want to, sweetheart. One year your mother and I insisted he spend Thanksgiving

with us, and it was the biggest disaster you can

imagine. He broke a window out of the car, he was that upset.”

“But … why haven't we been visiting him? I know you have, but the rest of us. Why not?”

“Well, it's draining. Your mother finds it incredibly depressing, and I understand that. We both

agreed that it was no place to take small children.”

He accelerated onto the highway, silent behind the wheel. Finally he said, “The years just

seem to slip away, Julianna. One day you have a baby in

your arms, and the next you realize she's very nearly a woman.” He smiled at me sadly. “I

love David, but he is a burden, and I guess I wanted to

protect you from that. But I realize now that all of this has affected you and the family.”

“But Dad, it's not—”

“Julianna, what I'm trying to tell you is I'm sorry. There was so much I wanted to give you. All

of you. I guess I didn't see until recently how little I've

actually provided.”

“That's not true!”

“Well, I think you know my heart's been in the right place, but if you line it up objectively, a

man like, say, Mr. Loski adds up to a much better

husband and father than a man like me does. He's around more, he provides more, and he's

probably a lot more fun.”

My dad wasn't one to go fishing for compliments or signs of appreciation, but still, I couldn't

quite believe he actually thought that. “Dad, I don't

care how it looks on paper, I think you're the best dad ever! And when I marry somebody

someday, I sure don't want him to be like Mr. Loski! I want

him to be like you.”

He looked at me like he couldn't quite believe his ears. “Is that so,” he said with a grin. “Well,

I'll remind you of that as your someday approaches.”

That turned the rest of the trip around. We laughed and joked and talked about all kinds of

things, but as we neared home, there was one thing

the conversation kept turning back to.

Pancakes.

My mother, though, had other plans. She'd spent the morning scrubbing floors and nixed the

pancakes. “I need something with more staying

power. Like grilled ham-and-cheese. With onions,” she said. “Lots of onions!”

“Scrubbing floors?” my dad said. “It's Sunday, Trina. Why were you scrubbing floors?”

“Nervous energy.” She looked at me. “How'd it go?”

“Okay. I'm glad I went.”

She glanced at my dad and then at me. “Well, good,” she sighed, then said, “I also felt like

scrubbing because I got a call from Patsy.”

“Loski?” my dad asked. “Is something wrong?”

My mother pushed a few wisps of hair back and said, “No…. She called to invite us over for

dinner on Friday.”

We blinked at her a moment; then I asked, “All of us?”

“Yes.”

I could see what my dad was thinking: Why? All these years of living across the street, and

we'd never been invited over. Why now?