“I only bought just the one.”

“Where’s mine?” I asked.

She looked up at the yellow clock above the stove rather than at me.

“Brent was feeling low today.

He didn’t eat any lunch.”

“I put in twelve hours in Texas and then flew four hours home,” I said.

“Your brother has had a really hard week with his job applications,” she said quietly.

She shut off the burner under the skillet and slid the browned steak onto a white ceramic plate.