Twenty-Five
Two days later I was at my parents’ house. The day prior had been Crackers’s service. Crackers’s kids—all seven of them—had each gotten a chance to speak. Her friends from church and bingo had kept all the family busy, shaking hands with the adults and pinching the cheeks of the kids. My cousin Leo had booked a private room at an Irish pub afterward, and all of us grandkids had gone out and swapped stories. While the ones with kids had trickled out as the evening progressed, the rest of us with no obligations at home stayed out far too late.
Thus I was now nursing a hangover in my mother’s kitchen.
James, also hungover, and I had barely made it over in time for the end of Family Breakfast, the last meal we all had together to say goodbye before everyone left. Dawn’s family w
