“He needs to control himself,” says Martin. He’s drunk too much, Tess thinks. Martin gets annoyed with Colin even when he hasn’t been drinking. He’s on edge, she thinks: this first holiday without his mother, this thing at work. Martin talked on the phone with Helen almost every day. There were weeks and months when Tess worried Helen knew more about her husband’s life than Tess. Helen was more patient, had more free time. Tess thinks how strange it is for Martin to be facing his first moment of crisis without her here to call.

“Colin,” Martin says, more calmly, grabbing his arm.

“Rrrrroar!” says Colin, snapping at his dad. The sound of his teeth clamping down is loud in Tess’s ears.

Martin grabs Colin with both hands and brings his face into their son’s face. “You do not bite!” he says, too loud.

“Martin!” Tess says.

“What is wrong with you?” Martin says.

“Martin, stop.”

He looks at her and steadies himself. He whispers to Colin, “You cannot do that, do you understand?”

Colin looks small and scared, but also, Tess can’t be sure what he’ll do next, whether he might now lash out again. More than anything about their son, this is what frightens Tess, that at any moment, he might explode; that also, he might crumple; that she can’t ever tell how to stop or help in either circumstance.