Aunt Gail and Uncle Dan were both eighty but they said, “No, we’ll come to you” and drove all the way down from Maine. We arranged folding chairs in the backyard of the farmhouse and my sister-in-law made a big breakfast. My uncle and aunt brought a huge tray of scones and fancy pastries from a bakery in Portland. It was downright strange, the amount of food we had. We all thanked each other warmly for the very generous pastries, the thoughtful eggs and fried potatoes.
We arranged our plates and laid our forks by them. Nobody ate anything.