We slowly build into a dialogue around work, and I take the opportunity to brainstorm a few acquisitions I'd discussed with Ros earlier in the week. Dad is blessedly fluent in the inner workings of my business; I can discuss any aspect with him without having to explain a great deal. He just gets it. This whole situation has made me stop to think how seamlessly I've taken for granted his expertise. If he wasn't around... no, I'm not going to grow some morbid sense of 'what-if' from this. I'm grasping again. My father senses that my tone has become a cover for what I'm trying not to feel, and excuses himself to make a phone call.
"She's going to be okay," Tricia's voice breaks through the stretch of silence. Mark is squeezing her hand, and nods his assent. Ava is asleep on his shoulder, ob
