Mama approached him cautiously, laid a hand on his back. He shoved her aside so hard she cracked into the log wall, cried out. Dad stopped, jerked upright. His nostrils flared. He was flexing and unflexing his right hand. When he saw Mama, everything changed. His shoulders rounded, his head hung in shame. “Jesus, Cora,” he whispered brokenly. “I’m sorry. I … didn’t know where I was.” “I know,” she said, her eyes glistening with tears. He went to her, enfolded her in his arms, held her. They sank to their knees together, foreheads touching.
