She should wait for him. Sam would be home shortly. But freshly baked bread was her weakness. God, she hoped that it wasn’t vanity to appreciate your own cooking. Just last Sunday the pastor had spoken of pride. Gulping down a little wine, she said a quick prayer.
Almost six. Yes, he should be home soon.
Suddenly the phone rang. Ah, it was Jason.
“Hi ma. Just called to check if you’ve taken your pills.”
“I will. After supper.”
“Why have you not eaten yet?”
“I’m waiting for Sam.”
“Ma… He’s not coming. Dad’s dead, remember.”