“I’m going to leave you here while I go to the bank and go to buy vegetables,” Sherry said. “I should be back in about forty-five minutes.”
She left me at a table on the deck at the Holiday Hotel. I divided my time between reading and watching the waves break on the reef as I sipped my coffee. A middle-aged man with a young man in his early twenties took the table next to mine.
“Well, son,” the man said. “You finally graduated college. Have you thought about what you’re going to do now?”
The boy said, “Dad, I want to get married.”
“We’ll discuss it after you say you’re sorry,” his dad said.
“Sorry for what?”
“You have to say sorry.”
His son said, “But what am I sorry for? What did I do?”
“Just say sorry.”
“But dad, what have I done wrong?”
“You have to tell me you’re sorry.”
“Why!?”
“Say you’re sorry,” the father said.
“I don’t understand,” the son said. “Please tell me why.”
“You have to say it. Say you’re sorry.”
“O.K. Dad. You win. I’m sorry.”
His father said, “Very good. You’re finished training. When you learn to say you’re sorry for no reason at all, then you’re ready to get married.”
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