I ate her cooking and let Gloria write the checks.”

“Dad, don’t.”

“I’m ashamed of you.” Walt’s chin worked twice.

“And I’m ashamed of myself, and I’m going to say it one time, while she’s standing here to hear it.”

Trent stared at his father’s mouth and said nothing in return.

Walt walked down the empty row to the old Buick.

He climbed in and drove off without a glance at his son.

Trent stood by himself on the concrete steps, his sleeve hanging loose over a bare wrist.