My husband pushed me down the stairs, and as I lay shattered at the bottom, my mother-in-law called my father and said, “Come get your worthless daughter and take her back.” Dad gave her only one warning: “If she has so much as a scratch, your family will answer for it.” They laughed at him because they had absolutely no idea who my father truly was.
“Are you still there?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Do you have someone with you?”
“My father is in the kitchen.”
“Good.
You don’t have to manage the next steps alone.”
When the call ended, I put the sock on the table and went to Dad.
He was slicing apples into the oddly thin wedges Lily preferred.
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