Yet, Carl persisted. "Grace, this weekend you'll call Dad," he declared, more as an announcement than a suggestion.
"Okay," I conceded, my eyes still fixed on the outside. I just wanted this conversation to end, and agreeing with whatever Carl said seemed the quickest way.
"You didn't inform me he'd be joining us for lunch," I complained to Carl, seizing the opportunity to shift our discussion.
It was a welcome diversion, focusing on the mysterious man instead of delving into my complicated past with my parents. It wasn't about them, but rather my not-so-pleasant history that I didn't want to revisit at the moment. After all, soon I would have to confront a man or share a car and a table with someone whose presence I could hardly stand.
"Who?" Carl asked, bewildered.
"Your neighbor, A
