“Hey, Mom, I’m home.” I closed the patio door and put the beer on the kitchen table. I tried to get home to Sunday dinner as often as possible. Sadly, I only made it once or twice a month. It wasn’t as if it was too far—my folks lived in Albuquerque. My mom didn’t push it, but my dad never missed a chance to tell me how much my visits meant to her.
“Hi, honey. I was so glad when you called this morning, especially since we didn’t get to talk when you stayed over.” I got a warm Mom-hug and kiss. “That’s a cute shirt, is it new? Turquoise is a good color on you.”
“Thanks. No, I got it before school let out. I just haven’t had much of a chance to wear it. Where’s Dad?” I put the beer in the refrigerator and sat down at the table. I could smell something baking.
“He’ll be right back, he jus
