Chris and Todd eye the last slice of garlic cheese bread that sits on a plate in the center of the table. There is only one slice left to spread among the five of us. Todd reaches for the knife first and glances over at Chris with a shrug of his shoulders. They silently negotiate how to share this last slice with a supernatural intuition that only former college roommates have.

As Todd saws the last piece of bread in two, Chris remembers the three other people.

“Anyone want the last piece?” he asks.

Matt, Michael, and I do not say anything. Our silence taken as assent, Todd and Chris split the last piece, and each take a careful bite out of the bread.

“Mushrooms,” Michael says suddenly. He drops the menu as if it were a microphone. His smile is that of a child who has successfully placed a tack on the teacher’s chair. “We have to have mushrooms.”

“You said mushrooms were an abomination in the sight of God and men,” I remind him.

“Hobbits like mushrooms,” he says, as if that explains everything.