"Hey, Mom." Carissa walked into the kitchen and kissed her mother's cheek. "Dinner smells good. What're you making?"

"Hi, honey. Lasagna with my homemade sauce, fresh garlic bread from the bakery that your father likes, and a salad with veggies from the farmer's market." Mom wiped her hands on her apron, then eased it off over her head. She draped the apron across the back of one of the stools that surrounded the small breakfast bar in the middle of the kitchen. ...