The Marrow

There was a knock at the door.

Standing there was Jerry, disheveled assistant to my sister Laura’s boyfriend, Ron, holding the largest zucchini I’ve ever seen.

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“This is from Ron,” he said, handing it to me. It weighed more than a ham.

I thanked him and closed the door.

My 7-year-old daughter regarded the squash suspiciously.

“What is that?” she asked. More