“I’m sorry, Darla,” I said.

“You shouldn’t have to put up with his temper.”

“He stood on my back porch for twenty minutes telling me I’d humiliated him in front of Tasha’s family,” she said.

“What did you tell him?”

“I told him if a picture of his own daughter looking like a princess embarrassed him, he ought to try being a better father,” Darla said.

She didn’t raise her voice or shift her feet on the dry pavement.