A Reunion I didn't Want

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I know it is rude to stare but I can't help it. I just keep trying to figure out why they are here and what it is I did to deserve this. Then I don't understand why it's so dusty in here and kept so dark. I've not been in this room in ages. I almost forgot it even existed. It was used as a bedroom at one time, then a means of storage. The storage was cleared out but nothing else ever made of it so it's dank and very cold in here. I look from the woman I was staring at to the man who sits on the other side of the table from me. He has a bandage on his hand and a grimace on his face. It's clear to see he is in pain but he is trying to hide it. You might think that's why he's hardly speaking, but the pain isn't what's keeping his tongue. No, he just doesn't know what to say. Nor do I. He's pleased to be here, atleast that makes one of us. I don't know why they are here, nor do I want them here. Is that rude? I mean the man is my father and the woman across the room is my cousin. What is the definition of a man who you've hardly seen in years? Clearly not father. He seems to hold himself to that title though and so I won't begrudge him the right. I just won't tell him that I've not thought of him as one since I turned 14. He clears his throat and finally speaks up. "So, I wanted to spend time with you." I sigh inwardly. ----- This story has elements of truth to it. It is still a piece of fiction, and a means for me to express my feelings towards a man whom I've never truly known. Take from it what you will. ----- Do you know your own Father?