My father turned the key, and the engine coughed twice before roaring to life. He did not turn on the heater, and the air inside the cabin remained freezing.
“Dad, tell me what is going on,” I said. “You are acting crazy.”
He shifted the car into reverse without looking at me, his eyes fixed on the empty pavement behind us.
The heavy silence inside the Ford Explorer settled over us as the reception lights disappeared in the rearview mirror.
“Speak to me, Dad,” I said.
He stared straight ahead at the dark stretch of asphalt, his jaw set.
“We left Emily at her own wedding,” I said, twisting my silver wristlet watch around my wrist.
He did not look at me.
“She is probably looking for us right now,” I said.
His knuckles were white against the worn vinyl of the steering wheel.
“Dad, answer me,” I said.
“Just wait until we get home,” he said.
His voice was barely a murmur over the hum of the tires.
