My Husband Said His Family Was His Problem, So I Let It Be

what kind of circus waited there.

So I went.

Sunday at one. Their house smelled like pot roast and lemon cleaner and somebody’s old perfume. Linda had set the table with cloth napkins, the good plates, and the same fake sunflower centerpiece she used every fall whether it was September or Thanksgiving.

Robert sat in his recliner until we arrived, then continue reading …