“Do you love her?”

“I don’t know,” he said, and that was somehow worse than a yes.

Florence came out of the guest room, drawn by our raised voices, and I waited for her to turn on her son, because that is what a mother does.

She did not.

She turned on me.

“Men who move up in the world meet impressive people every day,” she said, “while you’ve been shut up in this house for years.

A capable wife knows how to keep her husband interested.”