NOT JUST FOR DUCTS
MOM UNLOCKED THEIR door and made a pit stop at the bathroom. Dad was already home, sitting at the kitchen table with a calculator and a binder full of papers. He stood up and started clearing things to the couch. “Hey, kiddo. Wash up and help set the table. A happy cabbage-roll-free dinner awaits us all. Mom and I went shopping, and we’re going to make spaghetti and meatballs.” Double hooray! said his stomach. Life is good. But Rick noticed Dad’s smile also wasn’t up to its usual level either. He looked as worn out as he had the night before. “Dad, what’s up? Why are you both home so early? Didn’t you have one of your dinner deliveries scheduled for today?” Mom and Dad sometimes served their food buffet-style but more often dropped it off. They regularly served two, sometimes three lunches a day and did a couple of dinner drop-offs per week. Since Rick’s brothers had moved out, they’d stopped doing weekend events or anything that could run late into the evening. “Why didn’t anyone tell me I had mustard on my -- -
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