As I rounded the corner, my dad was pouring himself a glass of sweet tea. “Did Ethan call?” Amma stiffened, her cleaver poised over an onion, but my dad didn’t seem to notice. She started chopping. “Caroline has him busy waitin’ on her. You know how she is, classy and sassy, just like her mamma was.” My dad laughed, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “That’s true, and she’s a terrible patient. She must be driving Ethan crazy.”
I have to wonder about Christmas and New Years. No call. No visit. Nothing. And Aunt Caroline must be spelled as well, right?
