“Of course not,” Birdie said. “Hi, Bella. Sit here by me.”

Hunt looked up and grinned. It was Rob Denton. He hadn’t seen him since their high school graduation.

“Hey, Rob… Sit yourself down, man. It’s been too long.”

“Truth, Hunt. It’s good to see you again. This is my wife, Bella. We’re real sorry about your mom.”

“Thanks. It’s nice to meet you, Bella,” Hunt said.

Before they’d had time to settle, another couple approached.

“May we join you?” the woman asked.

And once again, Hunt was facing another classmate, this time an old girlfriend from his sophomore year.

“Hello, Linda. Thank you for coming,” Birdie said.

Linda nodded. “Hunt, good to see you again. This is my husband, Andy Ames. Our condolences on your loss.”

Hunt nodded. “You, too, Linda. Nice to meet you, Andy,” Hunt said, and gestured toward the last two seats.

Birdie was having a hard time swallowing food. She couldn’t get past the fact that they’d just buried their mother, and now everyone was being all chatty and eating like it was any church dinner. She didn’t think anyone noticed until Hunt leaned over and whispered in her ear.

“One bite, kid. That’s all it takes. The others are easier after that.”

She blinked back tears and forked a bite of potato salad into her mouth, then chewed and swallowed. The faint hint of mustard within the mayonnaise dressing reminded her of her mother’s recipe.

Love you, Mama, she thought, and took another bite.

After that it was easier, just like Hunt said, and within minutes the conversation turned to Hunt and where he’d been.

“Man, you were missed around here,” Rob said. “I thought you went off to college in Savannah, but then you never showed up. Where did you go?”

“The army,” Hunt said.

There was a moment of shock, followed by a mental tabulation of what was happening in the army fifteen years ago, and it was Linda who asked.

“Did you see active duty?”

“A little,” Hunt said. “I wonder who made this potato casserole. It’s good.”

“My older brother, Doyle, was in Iraq,” Rob said. “Were you ever there?”

“Hunt flew Apache helicopters all over,” Birdie said. “Fallujah, Mosul, and Afghanistan. Did I get that right, Hunt?”

He nodded.

“Are you still active duty?” Andy asked.

Hunt shook his head. “No. I mustered out after being shot down. Took a while to heal, but I still fly choppers. I work for an oil company down in Houston, ferrying oil-field workers to offshore rigs all up and down the southern coast, from Texas as far up as Louisiana. Keeps me busy.” Then he glanced at Birdie’s glass. “I’m going to get a refill. You want more tea?”

“Yes, please,” she said, and as soon as Hunt got up and left the table, they peppered her with questions.

“Is he married?” Rob asked.