I looked at my wife. Maybe she could bring order to the chaos. It was her family, after all.“You need to be louder.”“I was loud.”“Well, yell... then!’I rolled my eyes. Great! I stood up and waved my arms, and then yelled out, “EXCUSE ME! WE HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY!” At that point the adults, at least, looked in my direction. The kids kept yelling, but the parents saw me standing. I repeated myself, “EXCUSE ME! I NEED TO SAY SOMETHING!”Marilyn’s family started shushing the little ones, and I turned. “What the hell happened last night, Sweetcheeks?” I asked. I’ve always called Mindy Sweetcheeks. I’ve known her since a few hours after she was born. I was the first one, other than Joe, his wife, and the hospital staff, who got to hold her. I’ve always loved this child, almost as though she were my own. When she was a baby, I sometimes changed her diaper. When she was a young girl, I helped teach her how to ride a bike. When she went away to college last fall, I helped her move into her. More

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