Ruth M. McCarty

It all started when Uncle Frankie yelled across the table to my younger brother Tommy, “Toss me a roll, will ya?” Tommy launched it in an overhand throw. It landed in Grandma’s gravy-covered mashed potatoes and Grandpa spilled his red wine all over my mother’s pure white tablecloth trying to catch it. My father gave Tommy a look that silenced the table, and we all watched as he downed a mug of beer. “Get me another one,” he said to no one in particular.