I came home three days early, and nobody knew.
That was the point.
I wanted to surprise my wife, Beth, for her birthday.
I’d been working away from home for nearly two weeks, and I’d told everyone I’d be back Friday afternoon.
Instead, I finished my work early, changed my flight, and landed Thursday evening.
I didn’t even call Beth.
I wanted to see her face when I walked through the door.
By the time the taxi turned onto our quiet Saanich road, it was almost nine.
The neighborhood was dark and peaceful.
Our house wasn’t.
Every light was blazing.
Music spilled through the windows.
There were voices inside.
Then I saw the gray SUV.
Ontario plates.
I didn’t recognize it.
My first thought was that Beth had surprised herself with company for her birthday.
Maybe Kyle had driven up.
Maybe some of her friends had planned something.
I smiled.
Then I noticed how many cars were parked along the street.
Too many.
I asked the driver to leave my suitcase at the end of the driveway.
“Why?” he asked.
“Just trying not to ruin a surprise.”
He shrugged, unloaded my bag, and drove away.
I stood there for a moment.
The front windows were glowing.
People were moving inside.
I could hear laughter.
But something didn’t feel right.
I walked around the side of the house instead.
I wanted to enter through the back.
And that’s when I saw her.
Beth was sitting alone on the deck steps.
It was cold enough that I could see her breath.
She was wearing that old green cardigan she’d owned since before we were married.
Her shoulders were pulled tightly inward.
The way they always did when she’d been crying.
I stopped.
“Beth?”
She jumped.
She turned around.
For a second, she simply stared at me.
Then she stood.
“Daniel?”
Her voice broke.
I dropped my bag.
“What happened?”
She looked toward the house.
“You’re early.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to surprise you.”
She wiped her face.
“You did.”
But she didn’t smile.
I walked toward her.
“Who’s inside?”
She looked at me.
“That’s what I was hoping you’d tell me.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
Before she could answer, the back door opened.
Our son Kyle stepped outside.
He was twenty-seven.
Behind him was his wife, Melissa.
And behind them were several people I didn’t recognize.
Kyle froze when he saw me.
“Dad?”
“Hi.”
He looked terrified.
Melissa’s face
