The house was quiet that afternoon. The baby was asleep in his crib, Ann was reading in the living room, and Richard paced the hallway with his thoughts racing. He had been thinking about his father Victor and how strange everything had been lately. Victor had started visiting more often. He didn’t glare at Ann as much. He even held the baby and smiled, though his smiles were still stiff and rare. But Richard could feel it something was still stuck in the air. A wall that hadn’t fully come down. His father had written a note of thanks to Ann after she helped him during the family gathering. That alone was shocking. But Richard knew his father well. Victor didn’t just hold grudges. He built homes out of them. Richard finally stopped pacing. He turned and walked toward his father’s guest roo
