Larry, she knew, was incapable of feeling hysteria. He barely worried, which was medically provable by blood pressure numbers that rivaled men half his age. Beth, on the other hand, had worried plenty over the years. But maybe she had worried in all the wrong places, about all the wrong things. She had worried about stains. And bills. And report cards. And all the things she thought she should—all the things the parenting magazines paid experts to write about. She’d bought books about how and what to pray over her children. It surprised her to find prayers about things like their attitude on
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