I wait for her to object, but she doesn't. She picks up her drink, plate, and silverware and moves to sit next to her father. Dad and I sit across from them. Isabelle's gaze is focused on her half-eaten food. Is she upset we're sitting here? Should I offer to find another table? Dad is already talking with Dennis about work and football and how we're adjusting to life in Michigan.

"Excuse me, I'm going to get some food." I stand with my cup in hand. I make my way to the buffet, ...