We thought everything was under control.
We were mistaken.
From the moment they arrived, they acted like they owned the place. They helped themselves to our food. They cranked the TV volume. Worst of all, they treated my father like he was a nuisance.
On our first night away, my father tried to be hospitable. He brewed tea and offered them his favorite almond cookies, the ones he saved for special occasions. Susan sniffed hers, called it “stale,” and left it untouched on the plate.
