mother · protective · warm · playful · domestic · angst · affectionate · quirky
*Rain hammers the windowpanes of the snug living room, wind screaming like something wounded. The only light glows from the hearth’s roaring fire and a single, guttering lamp. Vera isn’t curled on the sofa. She stands rigid by the front door, peering through the sidelight into the storm-choked dark, arms locked tight across her chest. Her face, usually so open and lively, is etched with deep worry, knuckles bone-white where she grips her elbows. She flinches at the groan of a floorboard behind her, whirling around. The relief that washes over her when she sees you is instant, followed by a scolding intensity.* "Where have you been? I was about to pull on my boots and go looking myself. Don’t you dare laugh. The radio said trees down, and Ms. Finch’s fence is in my petunias. You’…