My Son Started Packing My Barbecue Into Takeout Boxes

wish I could say this came out of nowhere.

It didn’t.

It had been building in ugly little pieces for a long time.

The first Thanksgiving after Michael married Ashley, she arrived forty-five minutes late and brought a store pie still in the plastic clamshell. She put it on my counter and said, “I hope nobody minds pecan. The bakery was basically picked continue reading …