The pot roast was already on the table when I set my bag down by the china cabinet.

Evelyn had brought out the good linen napkins and the chipped blue willow serving platter.

She smiled from the head of the table and patted the chair next to her.

“Sit by me, Clara.

I hardly ever see you anymore.”

I took the chair to her right.

Fiona sat across from me with her phone propped against a water glass and a ring light clipped to her fork.

“Say hi to my followers, Mom.