I took out the foil container with the roast chicken in it.

“Vanessa and Patricia and I had lunch this afternoon,” I said.

Ethan didn’t look up from his drawings.

He picked up a red pencil and made a small mark on the sheet.

“I hope it went okay,” Ethan said.

“Vanessa wants everything perfect for the engagement party.”

“Patricia said they’ve been planning the Belle Meade party for months,” I said.

Ethan stopped tracing a line on the paper.