Hey, Sally,” he yelled. “What about that meat loaf, huh?” A steely look of anger flared in my mother’s eyes, and I thought, just maybe, I was leaving her in good hands after all. Her own. “The meat loaf is coming right up, dear,” she told Gabe. “Meat loaf surprise.” She looked at me, and winked. The last thing I saw as the door swung closed was my mother staring at Gabe, as if she were contemplating how he would look as a garden statue.