Sixty-six

I didn’t dance with El. I danced all night with Mother, stepping her a few times like the awful dancer I am. 

Mother is feeding Brianna when I arrive downstairs. I toss my briefcase on the table and give Brianna a peck after bopping her nose. Mother watches our exchange.  She is still taking it all in. The videos and pictures. She hasn’t spoken about them or what she feels about Brendan’s actions and I doubt she will. 

“We will be leaving in a bit,” she says with a side glance at Father who has his phone pressed to his ear.

“Good morning.” My hand covers hers resting on the dinning table and I give it a small squeeze. “You can stay for dinner. The twins will be here.” I get them for the rest of this week and next until El arrives. She left with her mother while I danced with mine. A crash sounds, we dart a look at the balcony. Father tugs on his hair from the roots. He turns to us and waves, I