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.


“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