My wife stayed awake for two consecutive nights preparing 38 different dishes for 75 relatives to celebrate our granddaughter’s birthday.
At the center of our backyard, Tiffany lifted an empty wineglass and smiled as if she had exciting news. “We’re moving the party to Rosewood,” she declared. “This is too homemade for the guests I invited.” The conversation halted immediately. Seventy-five pairs of eyes turned toward my wife, Gloria. She stood in the kitchen doorway…
