Marion had made all the arrangements herself. It was no great feat, though. For almost three decades of marriage, she had always managed things perfectly. Exotic travel, hotel rooms, philharmonic tickets, private museum tours, five-star restaurant reservations. Her husband and children and friends never ceased to marvel how seamlessly her plans unfurled, how gracious she was at every step of their unfurling. Today was no … Continue reading Our Table by Harry McEwan