That pulled a laugh from me and I felt myself relax into the hug, my arms finally coming up and around him. And I cried. And I think he did too. Because when my mom came in and stopped short at the entrance to the kitchen with a surprised, “Oh!” both my father and I pointed at the onion while we sniffed and wiped our eyes. “It’s the onion,” my dad said, recovering first. He glanced at me. I nodded, confirming the onion’s guilt. My mom gave us both a flat look but I could tell she was holding back her own tears. “And so, what?” came her wobbly question. “You’re consoling Desmond because the
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😭😭😭😭😭😭
