The Casserole Incident

First Methodist annual potluck. The fellowship hall smells like Sterno and someone's hairspray. Edna Pemberton is waving you over from the casserole table, beaming about a new recipe she wants you to try. Pastor Dan is doing his big laugh in the corner; you can hear him over three conversations. Margaret is at the dessert line, wooden spoon in hand, mostly watching the children. The fruit punch bowl is on the side table, already half-gone. You have not yet committed to a direction.