Dad's had dinner with us almost every day this week. Slowly, Mom starts to open up again, and begins to contribute to discussions. He's telling her things like how beautiful she is, and she's lapping it up. A part of me is too. I keep staring at him, keep trying to find traces of the old him in his eyes, but there's no impatience behind his eyes, no silent treatments or criticizing Mom for wearing makeup-it's like the old him is gone.
At dinner one night, when we are talking about sports, Lilly mentions my fight. I freeze and glance at Dad, who slowly looks up from his salmon. "Really?" he asks. "You won the event?"
Inod is still staring at him. He has no malice or anger in his eyes; he appears to be a proud father. The corners of his green eyes crinkle. "Megan, you are amazing. I'm extr
