Breakfast was served buffet-style in the big dining room at my aunt’s house, with eggs and bacon and sausage and homemade biscuits and waffles and fruit and just about anything else you could think of to make the meal complete. I would have asked how Kara had managed to pull all that together, since the plans for this breakfast had been made only the night before, but she’d been a field marshal in the kitchen ever since I could remember, so the spread wasn’t quite as astonishing to me as it might have been to an outsider.
I didn’t want to completely stuff myself, so I had to pick and choose, which was hard. Everything looked delicious. As usually happened at these gatherings, I ended up sitting near the foot of the table with the other “kids” — my cousins Kelsey, Kevin, and Melissa; Taryn
