1.My mother turned sixty, and because she used to be a high-end event planner, her invitation looked less like a birthday card and more like a summons to a royal wedding.

A month after the reunion disaster, my father showed up at my house.

He drove down alone on a Tuesday afternoon. When I opened the door, he looked older, tired, and deeply humbled. He carried a small wrapped box in his hands.

"Can I come in, Nora?" he asked softly.

I hesitated for a second, then stepped aside. "Sure, Dad."

He walked into the living room, setting the wrapped box on the coffee table. Liam came running out of his room, wearing his favorite dragon shirt.

"Grandpa!" Liam cheered, stopping a few feet away.

My dad’s face melted into a genuine, soft smile. He knelt down on the rug, reaching into his coat pocket, and pulled out a small, detailed plastic figurine of a double-headed red dragon.

"Hey there, sport," Dad said quietly, holding the toy out. "I found this at a specialty shop up north. Thought you might like it for your collection."

Liam’s eyes lit up. He took the dragon carefully, examining its wings. "Whoa... a dual-element fire dragon! Thanks, Grandpa!"

"You're welcome, buddy," Dad murmured, gently patting Liam's shoulder.

After Liam ran back to his room to add the dragon to his shelf, Dad sat down at the kitchen island across from me. I poured him a cup of coffee.

"The reunion was the worst week of my life," Dad said flatly, taking a slow sip.

"I heard," I replied gently.

"Your mother and Chelsea haven't spoken in three weeks," Dad continued. "Chelsea tried to bill Mom $1,200 for 'event management stress,' and your mother told her she was an ungrateful child. It’s a war zone at home."

"I'm sorry you had to deal with that, Dad," I said. "But they made their choices."

"I know," Dad sighed, setting his cup down. He reached into his jacket again and pulled out a bank cashier's check, sliding it across the counter toward me.

I looked down at it. It was for $600.

"What's this?"

"Your money back for the birthday party," Dad said firmly. "I paid it out of my personal account. Your mother refused, but I told her if she didn't refund you, I was moving into the guest house. She was wrong, Nora. Dead wrong. I should have stood up for Liam at that party, and I failed you both. I'm so sorry."

I stared at the check, then looked up into my father's tired eyes. For the first time in this entire nightmare, someone in my family had delivered a genuine, unprompted apology without excuses.

"Thank you, Dad," I said, my voice softening. "I appreciate you saying that."

"Can... can I come visit Liam sometimes?" Dad asked, his voice trembling slightly. "Just me? No big events. Just coming over to play with his dragons?"