about raking up the painful past, but unspoken suffer-.
ing just festers like sores in your heart and eventually
bursts and eats you alive inside.
"One afternoon while I was away, my father
invited your mother to go sailing with him. Haille and
I had gone with him before, and on one other
occasion, she and my mother joined him on the
sailboat. I thought there was nothing unusual about
this particular time, and she certainly didn't.
"Imagine her," he said, turning to me, his eyes
bloodshot with tears, "young and beautiful and still
very innocent, dressed in one of her newest sailing
outfits, her face fresh and tender with the morning
dew. She liked my father, actually loved him for his
charm and sense of humor. None of us ever put any
special importance on the attention he rained on
Haille. He flirted and beguiled every female who was
in reach of his smile."
Kenneth smiled to himself for a moment, lost in
some memory.
"She used to say being with my father was
second best to being with me."
His smile faded.
"We were all so happy-go-lucky, the rich kids
enjoying our sailboats and our cars, our clothes and
jewelry, able to go almost anywhere we wanted to go,
almost any time we wanted. We could have parties on
the beach and pay for everything without the slightest
concern. Everyone else envied us. College was nothing more than an expected promise. If we worked, we
worked only to fill time and amuse ourselves. We