“You need to have a little vision, Peaches. It has great bones and a lot of potential.” “There’s no such thing as potential,” he gripes. “There’s only what is and what isn’t.” “You’re wrong.” I shake my head. “You’re too full of youthful optimism,” he counters. “And you’re a forty-year-old curmudgeon,” I tease, earning the middle finger from him. “Just calling it like I see it.”
