There was a plate laid out for me at the place I’d been sitting yesterday. Slowly, I inched up to it, staring down to find what looked like two pickled eggs and a slice of some sort of alien bacon. In the shape of a face. A smiling face. There was no sign of Magnolia being up yet, so this had to have been Fallon’s handiwork. Instead of waiting for me to cook for him, my husband had put two eggy eyes and a bacony smile on a plate. For me.
