talked about tomatoes, a neighbor’s dog, Dad’s shoulder, the church fundraiser and a faulty faucet. Not once had Mom mentioned their bed behind the shed.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Mom turned her wedding band around her finger.
“Because we thought we could fix it.”
“What exactly needed fixing?”
Dad lowered himself onto the opposite mattress, setting the corroded key across his knee.
“It started last year.”
I knew the construction supplier had dismissed Derek during restructuring. I hadn’t heard about the credit-card debt, car loan or failed online venture
