Jenny

I headed downstairs and the scent of roasted chicken hit me. God, I was hungry and it smelled so good. I couldn't cook to save my life, so I think the last time I'd had a home-cooked meal that didn't involve a microwave was when I'd visited Matt in Greensboro last Easter. Before his mind had vacated, Grampy had been a great cook.

Rounding the corner, I stopped inside the kitchen doorway and smiled. A roasting pan was on the stovetop and the small table was set ...