"It's all right, Father," Eric said, his voice a calm, reassuring presence in the tense dining room. "We are just worried about you."
Delia nodded her head in agreement, her gaze still fixed on her father with a deep, sincere concern. "That's right, Father. And that is why we came up with a solution to help you. A way to lessen your burdens." She looked at Eric, a silent signal passing between them. "Eric and I discussed it, and we found a way to help."
Henry looked interested, a flicker of his old energy returning to his tired eyes. "You two did?"
Delia nodded. "It is about the Ellington Textile Establishment."
The name of the family business hung in the air. Augusta, who had just been lifting a spoonful of soup to her lips, choked, the rich liquid catching in her throat. She coughed violently into her napkin.
Delia continued as if she hadn't noticed. "I was thinking that you should give it to me to handle, Father."
