Lucas had told Marian to stop being fussy when she asked for an extra pillow.

At breakfast he left an unopened cereal box on a counter too high for her to reach comfortably and went back to his football commentary.

“I managed,” Mom whispered.

“I’ve managed much worse.”

“That doesn’t make this acceptable.”

She held my hand.

“I know how he gets when he’s corrected.

I didn’t want a fight between you.”