Harpo patted Ayala’s head hard enough to mess up her hair, to take strand after strand out of that tight elastic. She laughed. So did Harpo. Because she looked like a scarecrow, and, of course, she wouldn’t know that until later. Sometimes it was the little things. He could be happy. He wouldn’t fail this family.
“How do you think love works?” said Ayala.
“Oh no,” said Harpo. Not this again. He rubbed her back. Loving wasn’t complicated, it really wasn’t. Love was like light. You flicked a switch and the room was lit. You loved someone and they were loved. But that did seem too simple. How did love get sent? How did light get sent, for that matter, now that she’d asked the question, and how come when you flicked the light switch the whole room lit and not just a small part and the rest i
