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Chapter 9
9 “Dad?” My father cleared his throat on the other end. “I thought I might talk with you, but somehow I never expected you’d answer Lisa’s phone. I don’t know why.” I cleared my own throat, trying my best for an adult voice. “Where are you?” I asked. “Minnesota. I’ve been here for almost a week, fly-fishing with a couple of old colleagues and being eaten alive by mosquitos the size of birds. I’ll never complain about ours again.” “There’s always the palmetto bugs,” I said. He chuckled. “Yes, I think those might even send the local Nordic men running.” The silence between us wasn’t exactly comfortable, but then it wasn’t exactly silent either. There was a hum of energy, like some quantum connection that reminded us we were actually right next to each other, somewhere, somehow, close
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