SUPPER AT SEVEN, DINNER AT ONE O'CLOCK At one o'clock Henretta rings first the little brass dinner bell in the shape of a lady in a hoop skirt, and then the old black iron bell at the back door. We gather in the dining room, weaving together the individual threads of our mornings and our lives. We seat ourselves and Judge says grace. Typically, Miss Lady has had an attack of "nerves" and is dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief. ...Judge is peeved because it might be necessary to call in Dr. parker (who gives Miss Lady a sugar pill), and he could miss his fishing trip to the lake this afternoon. My mother's young and beautiful face is crossed with frowns--Susan, nine years old, will eat only grilled cheese sandwiches and Coca-Cola, and I, eleven years old, will eat only biscuits and dessert. She thinks of my father, who died three years before, after serving in World War II. She thinks of his beautiful hands, his elegant clothes, his wit. He was too sensitive to live, and now she must live for both of them...Henretta sets the platters and bowls of food on the table. She passes the biscuits (small, short, and delicate, the best biscuits I will ever taste in my life) and Miss Lady says through her tears, "Take two and butter them while they are hot, " as if taking two biscuits and buttering while they are hot is an action likely to have tragic consequences. --from Dinner at Miss Lady's