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That left borrowed chairs for the rest of us.

“This is the worst chair I’ve ever been in,” Dennis said.

“Dennis!” Kathleen slapped his hand where it rested on the table.

“It’s a loaner,” Jake said.

“Where’d you rob it from?”

“Tommy.”

“That explains it. I can’t believe Sarah lets him keep these, even as spares.” He shifted, and it creaked, and he stopped shifting. “Are more of the good ones coming?”

“There’ll be seven more,” I said. “I’ll get back to work on those next week.”

“When will they be finished?” His tone was inquisitive rather than demanding.

“Four by the end of February. The other three by the twentieth of March.”

He stared at me, and I wondered if I’d somehow said something wrong. “The twentieth?”

“Yes.”

“Not around the twentieth? The twentieth?”

“I’ve got a dining table ahead of them for a client, and some more furniture for Jake.” I re-ran the math in my head. “The twentieth of March.”

Dennis had a hint of surprise in his expression. “He gave me a date.”

“He does that.”

“Nobody gives dates. I had a man quote me spring for a garage door replacement.” Dennis shifted over to me. “Good for you, making commitments like that. It doesn’t happen enough anymore.”

“No, sir. It doesn’t.”

Internally, I winced that I’d said sir, but at least no one corrected me.

Once we’d served the food, Kathleen asked more about the table. I gave her the story of how we’d built it, Jake filling in details on how he’d helped. Neither of them questioned that he’d helped build his own furniture.

Kathleen shifted from the furniture to who taught me.

“My grandfather.”

“Where?”

“Russia. He apprenticed in St. Petersburg.”

She asked how old I was when he started me. She asked what he let me hold first, and whether he was hard on me, and what he did when I ruined something.

Nobody had asked me that many questions about my work in one sitting in my life. Not clients. Not my own parents, who love me, call on Sundays, and ask if I’m eating right.

I answered all of it in between bites. Every now and then I’d catch Jake looking at me with a mix of interest and pride. He was hearing things about my past that I hadn’t had time to share with him yet. And Kathleen kept slipping me details about Jake in return, especially about him and Nana Mary.

Dennis and Jake listened to us go on and on. She was easy to talk to, and even though I worried I was talking too much, she kept asking questions.

Once we’d had all we could eat, we cleared the plates and moved on to presents. Kathleen poured coffee all around, and we opened things.

It was small stuff, no surprise for a family that had traded many gifts over the years. Jake got a dark green sweater that was going to make his eyes pop. Dennis got slippers, which he put on over his socks right there in the dining room. I gathered it was an annual event.