The meal card was the size of a seed packet, folded once, with a thumbprint of gravy on the corner.

I found it under my dad’s plate on a Thursday in October. He was 80, living at Pine Hollow Care Center outside Greeneville, and I’d paid an extra $900 a month for his diabetic meal… plan for fourteen months. I’d brought him a clean pair of socks that day because the ones in his drawer had gone stiff at the heels.

His tray had mashed potatoes, a white roll, peach cobbler, and sweet tea.

I didn’t say anything at first. I picked up the card and turned it toward the window. I remember the gravy had soaked through enough to make the paper soft.

The line beside DIET said REGULAR.

Dad watched me read it. He had a way of rubbing one thumb along the edge of his napkin when he knew I was mad. He was doing that now.

I’d been visiting him four or five days a week. I brought his socks, his…