My father stood up at the lake house dinner and raised his glass in fr…

mother was standing in the kitchen with a clipboard.

“Nadia, thank goodness,” she said. “The napkins are wrong.”

Not hello.

Not how was the drive.

The napkins are wrong.

So I washed my hands, took off my cardigan, and folded thirty-eight cloth napkins into the shape she liked, the upright one with three folds and a tuck. Marin played cards in the sunroom continue reading …