I opened the parlor door and stepped out into the hallway with my four sons lined up beside me.

Ethan was standing right under the central crystal chandelier in the Great Hall, holding a crystal glass of pinot noir while he talked to his father near the fireplace.

Through the arch into the dining room next door, silver dessert spoons glittered on dark mahogany tables set for dinner.

The glass slipped out of Ethan’s fingers, hit the carved mahogany foot of a display table, and shattered on the Persian rug.

Dark red wine splashed across the cream wool carpet and soaked into the polished leather toes of his shoes.