CHAPTER 10 The next day, at noon, a knock sounded on the apartment door. Michael went to let in his foster mother while Sheridan put the finishing touches on the dinner. She had made the traditional meal: turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, salad and cranberry sauce along with homemade dinner rolls. The apartment had a lovely aroma, which since neither of them had eaten that day, proved torturous. Michael ushered his guest into the kitchen. Sheridan ladled gravy into a small silver pitcher, washed her hands, and turned to meet Molly. Michael's foster mother turned out to be a short and rather thickset woman, with curly steel-gray hair and a friendly face wreathed in smile lines. She had to be nearly seventy and looked for all the world like a charming Irish grandmother. Like m

