It’s a tradition. Every Father’s Day the two of them get together for pizza, and sit on the small balcony which overlooks both Lake Michigan and the downtown skyline, and there they talk about things they don’t talk about with anyone else. Mike calls his patio their “dome of silence.” For both, their lives have been shaped by secrets, secrets from each other, secrets from others, secrets from themselves. For both, holding on to those secrets have left them floating, alone, with only each other to hold to. They are each enshrouded in silence, silence about what really matters.
