“Resident busybody isn’t a title you claim without seriously living up to it. Now—” She yanks a box of condoms off the wall behind her, where she keeps stuff that kids steal too often, and throws them in my canvas bag. Then she freezes, fishes them out, and switches them for a new box stamped with a bold, oversized letter L. “If you’re anything like your mother says your father is—”
SARAH THIS IS A GROCERY STORE
