A Slice of Blueberry Pie Broke Eight Years of My Son’s Silence
Jeremy’s already at the house waiting on lunch.”
My mother took two steps out onto the braided rug.
“She hasn’t finished her tea, Zane.”
“The tea can wait,” Zane said.
He took my elbow with just enough pressure to steer me toward the front hall.
“We have things to take care of before the weekend.”
“What things?” I asked.
“Family business,” he said.