9:10 amThe oven is on and the first text arrives: “Running late, bringing Dave.” Nobody invited Dave. You write the three things you cannot control on the back of the shopping list and hand the rolls to your sister.
1:40 pmDave has opinions. Your one sentence is ready before the gravy: “I’d rather hear about your year, Dave.” It turns out his year was hard. The dam holds.
2:15 pm“So when are you two having kids?” You say the line you practised in the car and ask about the knee. The knee takes eleven minutes.
3:30 pmYour brother mentions the house. You count ten seconds. You say back what you heard. You decide it is not today, and that is a decision, not a dodge.
4:05 pmSomeone says Mum’s name while cutting the pie. The room goes quiet for a moment and then the stories come. The chair is still empty; it is less heavy.
1:02 amThe cart has a stand mixer in it. You close the tab. In the morning you still want it; you buy it at noon and it is on sale anyway.