65. A sign, part 1.

Matt was talking about his first days in India, when his father Ed had been assigned to the American embassy. Nan was listening politely while she ate her breakfast.

She glanced over at Sid. There was that far-away look in his eyes again. What was he thinking about when he was like that? There had been the moment on the plane, when he quoted poetry to her (what was it he quoted? she had been so groggy, now she couldn't remember it), times when he seemed to be almost completely absent.

"He's suffering," Sid said.

Conversation stopped. Matt, interrupted mid-sentence, looked over at Sid. "Pardon me?"

Sid returned, but only partially. His eyes were still hazed, like he was looking at something beyond the table, behind the wall across from him. "Your father. He doesn't like it here."

Matt frowned again. His gradual disapproval of Sid was growing. He wanted him out of the house.

Sid continued. "He came here because he thought it would be the best opportunity for him, the best career. He's well paid, but he hasn't really enjoyed his work for some time."

Matt's anger was rising. "Well, that's the way it is for most of us," he said, trying to ignore the tight feeling in his chest. "Not everyone can just do whatever they want."

"That's true," Sid agreed. "We could do whatever we want, but we won't let ourselves. It's just as well. If everyone did whatever they wanted, things would be even worse."

Matt got up slowly, pushing the chair back with his legs. He picked up his newspaper again. "If you'll excuse me, I've got better things to do."

He walked out of the dining room without looking at Nan.

Nan stared at Sid.