“Mmm,” he mumbled around the bread. “Good.” She glanced across the crowded café. Tables were filled with people on lunch break and suburbanites enjoying a day downtown. In the corner a couple with two-year-old girls in ponytails scarfed their food while the baby boy banged his high chair. What a life. “Don’t you like your salad?” She looked at Dad. He’d polished off another three bites while her mind wandered. “Told you the sandwiches are great. A little bread wouldn’t hurt you.” “I’m not that hungry.” She stabbed a forkful of lettuce and olives. She’d eaten too well while Kendall was in town—a different brand of average deep-dish pizza, a steak place, a sushi restaurant, and two breakfasts at a great diner. Not to mention the food at the hockey game. She was thirty now. She wasn’t burning calories the way she used to.
