George Brought a Sealed Legal Folder to His Son’s Wedding in an Atlanta Hotel
He stood in the sunroom doorway like a visitor.
Evelyn set her tea on the side table and opened her arms.
She didn’t say a word about the reception or Samantha or the boardroom.
She held him until his shoulders dropped.
Brandon said, “I messed up.”
“You’re here,” she said.
“Sit down.”
A soft gray curl had worked loose from her scarf.