He reached for his phone — and before he could do anything with it, my door opened and his wife walked in, keys still in her hand, in a white wool coat.
She looked at Emmett. Then at me. And something crossed Thea’s face before she put it away.
« Oh, Emmett, » she said. « I didn’t want you finding out like this. »
« Finding out what? » my son said.
Two days later, he followed me to the pantry.
I didn’t know he was behind me. I was in the queue with twenty other people and a cardboard box, the way I had been every Tuesday for three years.
He came down that hall and took hold of my wrist in front of all of them.
« Dad, » he said. « Put it back. »
Nobody moved. Somebody set a crate down on a table.
He didn’t let go. He leaned in, and his voice broke.
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