“How you feel?” Ma asked.
“Tar’d. Jus’ tar’d out.”
“Gonna get some breakfas’ into you.”
“I ain’t hungry.”
Mrs. Wainwright moved beside Ma. “She looks all right. Come through it fine.”
Rose of Sharon’s eyes questioned Ma, and Ma tried to avoid the question. Mrs. Wainwright walked to the stove.
“Ma?”
“Yeah? What you want?”
“Is—it—all right?”
Ma gave up the attempt. She kneeled down on the mattress. “You can have more,” she said. “We done ever’thing we knowed.”