A mighty fine group of five women, all from my pod, had gathered around the television for the game. We’d been talking about it all week. Had trouble even thinking about much else, honestly. We each saved up our commissary order for game-day snacks.
Our six pairs of squinting eyes scanned the 10-point font sheets for coveted items. A commissary clerk counted out our change through glass-protected windows. We were all set. Stella had the Tostitos and some cheese dip. Bev took care of the napkins. Liz and Peggie covered cups and soda pop with enough left to add in an eight-ounce package of sour chewies. We all covered Terry, whose funds had run low. Me, I used my balance for something sweet, chocolate kisses, my boy’s favorite. I bought them in his honor, told the girls it was his treat. Th
