Potato chunks lounged in warm pools of gravy. Tender bird and crunchy bits of fried skin went down easily. I had a pretty good idea what the meal was ...riginally going to be, and was amazed that my mother did something so much more elegant on no notice at all. Christmas tunes from the radio largely took the place of conversation. No one would talk with their mouth full, and our mouths were full until the last roll wiped up the last drop of gravy. I was almost too stuffed to move when my mother. When I say a lot younger I mean much, much younger. They were in their late twenties. They were each around 28 or 29 I believe. I really like them. They were more outgoing of course. Neither of them had a boyfriend. For whatever reason and I’m not sure why it mattered to me, had me paying more attention to what they were doing although I never showed it. I know that because they told me, later on, that it didn’t. Anyways, there they were. Working and keeping busy as ever. Work piled up. And. More

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