The Four Boys at the Restaurant Sink
Nothing needed to be decided in the next five minutes.
For the first time in my adult life, I did not immediately call my mother back.
I typed:
Tomorrow morning. At the house. No attorneys. No assistants. Just the truth.
Her reply came inside a minute.
Agreed.
Then one more message, with no text at all — only a scanned photograph.
My father, standing outside the front doors of the shore house.