call it that. (That’s a joke. Your mother is rolling her eyes.)
Bring your wife out here. Sit on the porch with your mom. Fix the railings when they go soft.
Don’t ever let anybody tell you what we built isn’t good enough.
Love, Dad
Cullen set the letter down in his lap.
He didn’t say anything for a long time.
Then he laughed. A wet, broken laugh.
“That’s a terrible joke,” he said.
“It was the worst joke,” I agreed. “I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt.”
He
