It had been ages since I’d heard from my stepdaughter, Hyacinth. When she called out of the blue and invited me to dinner, I thought maybe this was it—the moment we’d finally make amends. Little did I know, she had something far more surprising in store.
I’m Rufus, 50, and my life has always been steady, maybe a bit too steady. I’ve got a quiet office job, live in a modest house, and most evenings find me with a book or the news on TV. Excitement? Not much of it, and I’ve been content with that. But if there’s one thing I’ve never been able to get a handle on, it’s my relationship with Hyacinth.
We’ve always been distant. Ever since I married her mother, Lilith, when she was a teenager, there’s been a gap between us. Over time, I stopped trying as much, figuring maybe that’s just the way things were going to be. So when she called, sounding unusually cheerful, I was both hopeful and wary. “Hey, Rufus,” she said brightly. “How about dinner? There’s this new place I want to check out.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond at first. We hadn’t spoken in so long. Was she reaching out to patch things up? If she was, I was all in. I’d wanted that for years. So, with a hint of cautious optimism, I agreed. “Sure, just tell me where and when.”
