The porch door screeches as she heads inside, where she’s greeted by the fresh aroma of baked bread, pot roast, and apple pie.  She feels like she’s just walked into a time machine, in pre-Sandy death days, when her mother baked from scratch on a daily basis.  After Sandy’s death, those times were far and few.

Seated at the dining room table is Bart, organizing a few papers and making small talk with Judy.  His briefcase is at his feet.

As Judy lifts a roaster from the oven, Megan says, “Um, your husband wanted me to tell you that he had to check on something, and that he’ll be right back.”