Mother hung back, by the kitchen door, silent and awkwardly fingering her hair, swallowing millions of words that were trying to push out of her throat. Instead, a look of reproach in her eyes replaced all the words. Here is a man, a husband of mine and father of my children. A man I didn't choose, yet a fate of mine. I will ask no questions because this man, a husband of mine, has always come and gone as he pleases. A man born in the Year of the Horse with galloping feet. A man born with a destination of his own. I, an ascending dragon, and he, a galloping horse, have as much marriage affinity as a mouse and a cat.

When he looked at mother, it was half-mumbled words father let out. Mother responded with her own half-mumbled words, while her eyes glanced at us children. Uncertain. Hesitant. They stood. Like two trees standing apart. There were no embraces or touches. If there had been some gestures or body language of affection or intimacy, a child's eyes undressed them.

I looked and looked at the stranger who was said to be my father. A gentleman with a graceful body, looking like a millionaire in his snug-fitting double-breasted suit. Handsome as an actor, a suffering hero