In and out.
My mother could perform homecoming without its main character.
Let her improvise.
She was good at that.
The night before we left, Dena watched me pack.
“And when your mother finds out you’re in town?” she said. “Dayton’s a small pond, Tori. Casserole travels faster than light there.”
“Then I’ll be on the interstate before it cools,” I said.
We laughed.
I almost believed it.
I strapped Marin into the car and tucked the cream church invitation into my bag.
Not because I planned to use it.
