My father insists that he take the three of us out to lunch to meet his new girlfriend. What I know so far: her name is Audrey, they’ve dated for six months, she likes online shopping and romantic comedies, and she is at least twenty years younger than him. “I’m not sure what this has to do with me,” says the kid on the way there. “Pretending to be happy for someone you love is a key life skill,” I lecture. “Or we could actually be happy for him,” says Michelle. “You make a point. Not a particularly good one, but a point.”
