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

two slices of wheat bread waiting in the toaster. Four were from my mother. Three from Claire. Two from Aunt Renata. One from my father. One from a 724 number I did not recognize.

There were also nine text messages.

I did not read the messages first.

I made coffee. I toasted bread. I buttered it. I sat at my kitchen table and listened to the voicemails continue reading …