The walk from the used car lot back to Miller’s Corner Market took twenty minutes in the biting wind.

I had just traded my classic pickup for a chance to find out what my son-in-law was hiding.

The empty space in the lot behind the market felt like a missing tooth.

Sunday morning came with a heavy white frost over the lawn.

I stood in the kitchen peeling carrots at the sink.

Eleanor was basting a large roasting chicken in the oven.

She had already made mashed potatoes and green beans.