“It was years ago, and it was once, and—” “Was it good?” Grandma interrupts. “Mother.” “What? Young men were not great at sex when I was—” “Please don’t finish that sentence,” Mom says, face scrunched up like she’s in pain. “I’m just saying. Some things get better with age.” I snort-laugh. Mom crosses her arms over her chest and shakes her head. I lean closer to Grandma. “Savvy had no complaints,” I whisper. She cackles. Mom’s cheeks turn pink as she shoves the rest of the donut in her mouth.
