My mother is thrilled when I tell her Dave’s coming over. Despite my protests, she runs out to the store to buy him a few things—nothing much, candy and some clothes, “mom” gifts if I ever saw them. She also picks up a few already made side dishes, collard greens and macaroni salad, to go with the baked ham already in the oven. As the day wears on, the house grows toasty and warm, the scent of dinner making me hungry. I keep one eye on the clock, waiting for five to roll around. Dave said he’d try to get off early, if he can. I’m more than a little surprised at how anxious I am to see him again.
At twenty after five, the doorbell rings. My mother’s in the kitchen, putting the final touches on dinner. Jenna was helping, but now sits at the dining room table, a coloring book and crayons spr
