They sat around a table in Brandy’s backyard and Reggie’s kids wouldn’t stop shivering, moaning about the cold. “It’s July,” complained Mike, the oldest. “It’s dry heat,” snapped Brandy. “That’s why days don’t feel as muggy and horrible as they do where you’re from.” Where you’re from. Reggie couldn’t stand it. Already, the kids were depressed that there were no fireworks, and now they had to pretend to like the hippie tea that Brandy served them.
