Ezoic
I watched him take a breath.
Ezoic
I watched him think about Elmer. About tea with honey. About I’m a friend, ma’am. I’m here to help.
I watched him think about Jean, with her hand on his chest. We know them here.
And then Frances’s face changed.
All at once. It lit up like a lamp.
“Joe,” she said. “Oh, Joe. You’re home.”
Mark didn’t correct her.
He didn’t say Mom, it’s me. It’s Mark. Your son.
He walked across the kitchen. He set the bag of donuts on the counter. He put his arms around his mother.
“I’m home, Frannie,” he said.
Frances held onto him. Her face was pressed into his shoulder.
“You’re so late,” she said. “You’re always so late. I made pot roast. I think I burned it.”
“That’s okay,” Mark said. His voice was shaking. “I bet it’s the best pot roast I ever had.”
