“Needs more pepper,” I said.

“Joanne always said the same thing.”

We ate and talked about nothing in particular: the weather, a loose hinge on the gate, whether the tomatoes needed more sun.

I hadn’t realized until that moment how much I used to dread this room.

All the unspoken things had made the kitchen feel smaller than it really was.

After dinner Lucas took the silver locket down from the mantel.

He opened it and looked at the photo of himself and Joanne as children.