Journal entry 11
On the Monday after Evelyn’s
memorial service, my parents drag me out of the house and we go to San
Francisco for lunch at Scoma’s on Fishermen’s Wharf. The day clears
of morning fog and warms into the mid-70s. Ev first met them at this
restaurant, so afraid that they wouldn’t like her, and she tried to dress just
right and say the right things.
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