“Oh my god… MOM AND DAD?” I whisper half to myself, my jaw hanging slackly in utter astonishment as I take in the sight of my terminally-estranged parents mingling together at the bar like old friends. The last time I’ve seen the two of them together in one room (without Word War III breaking out) was before the divorce, when I was just six years old.
It’s been at least six or seven months since I last spoke to my mom (over the phone, for her birthday), and even longer than that since I had any contact with my dad. I think there was an email exchange a year and a half ago, and nothing since then. With both of my parents, I pretty much follow the rule of leaving them to their own lives, and they leave me to mine. Mom’s always been so busy with her fancy new hedge fund manager husband, and
