She had been worried, imagining her small nieces deprived of a family Christmas for the first time in their lives, imagining Tony spending Christmas with them (since he had refused to go with his parents to his younger sister’s in Edmonton), morose and lonely, imagining, with Diane not present, a confusion and sadness thrown over their own celebrations. When she told Kent about Tony’s call, he had laughed, a sort of snort, and said, “That’s some separation—she gets to run around doing God-knows-what by herself, and then when she wants him, he comes running.” Selena had replied, “I know it looks that way, Kent, but I don’t think that’s really how it is.” He had only snorted again and gone back to his paperwork. She hadn’t even bothered to try to explain. She knew he didn’t want to know differently. He’s so simple about things like that, she told herself, but without rancour, even with affection. He can’t handle too many shades of meaning. Like he hasn’t got the capacity for it.
