Fiorella's dining room display shelves are occupied by silver platters, bowls, casserole frames, baby cups and spoons--even a pitcher and a champagne bucket. Most of the haul is plate, of course, but all of it, dammit, requires regular polishing.
It's wedding silver, the sort of thing people used to give a bridal couple instead of a check or gift card. Fio wishes she'd traded in most of it for cash refunds at the time, but, in her innocence, she assumed her future would live up to the silver and she'd have Elizabeth and Phillip over to dine some day. Spoiler alert: no one's future lives up to a boatload of silver.
Nevertheless, she's moved the silver from house to house to house to house to house with her because . . . well, what else can she do with it? That's why she's been spending every spare minute for the past week scrubbing away with Wright's Silver Cream.