The Freeloader Invoice
After taking my mother home, I sat at my dining table and looked at the framed photographs hanging nearby.
There were pictures from birthdays, holidays, barbecues, and family dinners.
Clarissa appeared in nearly all of them.
In one photo, she was laughing while holding a plate piled high with lasagna.
In another, Beatrice stood near the dessert table with two takeaway containers.
A Thanksgiving photo showed Evelyn walking through our front door with enough leftovers to feed a family.
That was when the idea came to me.
The following morning, I called my fiancé.
“Is your mother still holding her garden club luncheon today?”
“Yes. Why?”
“I’d like to send her something.”
