“WE"RE HOME, MOM.”
WE"RE HOME, MOM.Mom smiled at Fritz when she came into the kitchen. Without a word, she gave him a long, tight hug. When she let go, she motioned to the table, wiping tears from her cheeks.
“Don"t cry, Emily. It"s not that bad.”
She brushed her eyes and blew her nose. “Maybe you"re not stupid anymore.”
“Mom!” Fritz just laughed.
“Private joke, dear. Remind me to tell you sometime. Do you want a drink?”
“I"ll get it,” he said, and went to the liquor cabinet, moved a few bottles, and pulled out a dusty bottle of whiskey. “A newly acquired taste. Irish.” He poured three glasses.
“Welcome home,” Mom said and clinked glasses.
I said, “I"m the happiest woman in the world, Fritz. And I"m so sorry. TJ will be glad you"re home, too.”
He raised his glass again. “We have a
