impossible, and she would answer.
“Yet you keep coming back.”
Slowly, without either of us naming it, things changed. She started asking me to stay for dinner. Her cooking was terrible, but she acted personally insulted if I said so. Once she made meatloaf so dry I had to drink three glasses of water to swallow it.
“This is awful.”
She pointed her fork at me.
“Then die hungry.”
Some evenings, we watched game shows together. She yelled at contestants like they could hear her. She told me pieces of
