“You’ve got a mother who calls every Sunday, and you press a button to make her stop.

I’m not going to tell you your business.

I’m only going to tell you what I know, which is that the coat of pride you’re wearing is the same one I’ve had on for nineteen years, and it is not as warm as it looks, and one day you’ll be seventy-four in a kitchen wishing you’d taken it off sooner.”

Chapter 13 — Home