“Henry!” His mother slapped at his father’s arm, but then her hand slid down until their palms touched and their fingers interlaced. He saw his father’s fingers flex, giving silent comfort though he’d cut the tension with his jokes. His parents worked well that way, one shoring the other up when necessary. In the end, he’d realized that was what had been missing with Greer. They’d never been able to figure out that delicate dance of support.
