I sat in my mother's kitchen.
It was a lot different from dad's. The goldenrod tiles were not chipped away at yet. There always seemed to be bread puffing up in the oven. Instead of Target lamps in the corners, she had a glass chandelier dangling above the dinner table.
"Would you like some salad while you're here?" My stepfather, Joseph, twirled the tongs in his hand.
"Do you want any dressing?"
He served me some greens, which I ate zealously. My mother walked in carrying my half-sister, Lucy, right as I finished my last arugula leaf.
"Good afternoon, sweeties." She chirped, her eyes shining in the sunlight seeping through the skylight.
"Hey, mom." I smiled wide and tickled Lucy's chin.