That night at dinner, Brian felt uneasy telling Dad about the incident. “I should have done more. I knew what to do and I didn’t do enough.”
Jim added a few comments and pressed his knee against Brian’s under the table. Michelle was there for one of her visits, and she held Dad’s hand and listened politely, keeping her face neutral.
Dad had remained silent for too long.
Jim had obviously grown nervous. “Dad, say something.”
“Is there anymore fried chicken?”
Brian jumped and got a second bowl from the oven.
Dad bit into a chicken breast, moaned, and said, “There are a lot of things I’m thinking of, so sometimes it’s best to say nothing. Brian, what do you want out of life?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Then it’s time for some decisions. I want you to take two or three days to write
