Fire Solves All Problems Perfectly pt 30

This is exactly what I expected you to do, your mother says into the phone. Thanks, just thanks a hell of a lot.

She hangs up the phone, slamming it in to the wall cradle, tossing a spent cigarette into the sinkwater and immediately lighting another, even though your father said she’s only allowed one an hour.

You come inside, catching the screen door before it slams. Was that grandma? You ask her, getting out the bread to make another sandwich.

Don’t snoop, she says, attacking the dishes, blowing smoke through her nose. Grandma says she’s too sick to make the drive.

She dries her hands on a towel and pinches your behind as she walks by, dropping a record on the turntable in the dining room and singing with Dolly Parton.