“You can’t just strand us here.”
The sentence was so perfect that I almost thought I had imagined it.
I looked down the hallway toward Abigail’s room.
“You’re worried about being stranded?”
My mother went quiet.
My father took the phone.
He told me I was being dramatic.
He said they had never abandoned Abigail because they had sent me her location.
According to him, that proved they had acted responsibly.
I asked why they had not waited with her until I arrived.
He said they would have missed the shuttle.
I asked why the shuttle only had two passengers when the trip was supposedly for the grandchildren.
Another pause.
Then came a familiar maneuver.
He changed the subject.
He said Abigail had become hysterical after vomiting.
He said the boys were uncomfortable.
He said they were tired of “managing everybody else’s emotions.”
I asked a simpler question.
