“Trace is cooking Nonna's lasagna.""Wow. I must see this.""He was wearing her little apron and everything.""Got a camera?”

“...Ivy’s COOK THE STEAK, DON’T STAKE THE COOK apron...”

“Yes, poor Darren, forced to cook and clean and do other unmanly things. Next thing you know he’ll be wearing an apron and popping out babies.” He snorted as Darren turned and did something with his hand. “We’re friends, but we’re not that close, Dare.”

“Wow,' he said. 'Seriously - *wow*. I mean, what are the odds that of all the people Dad might marry, the chick's son is someone you've-''Trace!''Sorry. Okay, advice...hmm.”

“Are you wowed?" Her pause is debilitating."Yes," she says a little breathlessly. "I'm wowed.”

“That Sindy. She was so damn smart. But I never told her that. I also never told her that I loved her, or that I loved the two little stretch marks she got from carrying Vera. Or that I loved that freckle on her forehead. I never told her that I loved her lasagna or that I thought her views on politics were clever. I just kept my mouth shut because I thought that made me safe.”