Three Bags of Cashews and a Dishonest Sister In Law at the Wedding

Martha,” he said. “It is a business dinner.”

“It is a family dinner,” I said, my voice soft but firm. “And I have already reserved the table.”

Donald cleared his throat again, looking down at his boots.

“She won’t like it,” he said.

“I will see you at six on Thursday, Donald,” I said, reaching for the doorknob.

He stood there for another second, the envelope continue reading …