"When's the last time you all sat down and actually talked about what's happening here?"
Harlon's jaw tightened.
"We work. That's what we do."
"And how's that working out?"
The silence that followed was answer enough.
"Tonight," Norah said. "After supper, everyone sits down and we figure this out together. No more fighting. No more assumptions about what other people are thinking. We talk like a family instead of strangers living in the same house."
"We don't need a family meeting," Harlon said.
"Yes, you do. You needed one months ago."
Norah's voice stayed calm but firm.
"But tonight's when you're getting one. All of you."
She walked back to the house, leaving them standing in the yard, dripping and stunned.
Ru tugged on Thomas's wet sleeve.
"Is she always like this?"
Thomas stared after Norah.
"I have no idea."
The rest of the day passed in tense quiet.
Norah finished the laundry, started mending the massive pile of torn clothes, cleaned the kitchen again after lunch.
The boys worked outside, their voices careful, their movements cautious around each other.
Harlon came in once mid-afternoon looking for coffee.
Norah poured him a cup without speaking.
He stood by the window, drinking slowly, watching his sons work in the distance.
"You can't fix this," he said finally.
"Probably not."
Norah didn't look up from her mending.
"But I can make it harder for you all to keep pretending it's not broken."
"Things were simpler before you got here."
"Things were falling apart before I got here. There's a difference."
Harlon finished his coffee and set down the cup.
"That meeting tonight, it's a mistake."
"Maybe. But you're going to do it anyway."
He looked at her then.
Really looked at her.
And something shifted in his expression.
Not quite respect.
Not quite resentment.
Something in between.
"You're stubborn," he said.
"I learned from experts."
Norah threaded her needle.
"Now go back to work before your sons think you're avoiding them."
He almost smiled.
Almost.
After he left, Cade slipped in through the back door.
He'd been absent most of the day, which apparently was normal for him.
He grabbed bread from the kitchen and started to leave.
"Where do you go?" Norah asked.
Cade froze.
"What?"
"During the day. Where do you go when you disappear?"
"Around."
"That's not an answer."
He turned to face her, defensive.
"Why do you care?"
"Because you live here. Because you're 12 years old and shouldn't be vanishing for hours without anyone knowing where you are."
"I'm fine."