Page 33 of Chasing Fireflies

“It’s not hot today,” Sara replies.

“Well, I guess it’s a matter of opinion.”

I roll my eyes when I turn my head and open the door. “After you, Debbie.” I smile at the woman who is too clingy and annoys the piss out of me.

“See, you haven’t done much with the place,” she says, taking a seat on the couch.

“Debbie,” Walter warns.

“I’m just stating facts. You need some color in this place. We can go shopping if you want, Sara.”

“No thanks, Mama. Cash and I are decorating it here and there.”

“Suit yourself,” she says, linking her fingers on her lap.

“Would you like something to drink?” Sara asks.

“Yes, I’ll take some tea.”

“I don’t have any made. Would water be okay?”

“You don’t keep tea made here?”

“No, I don’t like to get into a habit of drinking it all the time.”

“You grew up drinking it all the time.”

“Well, things change, Mom.”

She sighs. “Water is fine.”

“Would you like a beer, Walter?” I ask.

“I see you’re still drinking,” Debbie chimes in.

“Yep,” I reply.

“A beer would be nice, son. Thank you.”

I nod before Sara and then walk to the kitchen. Sara grabs at her hair as I open the fridge. “What is she even doing here?” she says in a harsh whisper.

“Guess she misses driving us fucking crazy.”

Sara laughs as I hand her the water pitcher, and she fills her mom’s glass.

“Guess she does,” she agrees.

“You want a beer?”

“Yes, and after this visit, I’m going to need something stronger, so be ready to go out.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I reply. I slap her ass as I walk by and head back into the living room.

“Here you go, Mom.” Sara hands her the glass, and Debbie gasps.

“What the hell did you do?” she asks in horror. I realize she is talking about her daughter’s wrist, and again I curse under my breath. “When did this happen?” She looks over at me. I swallow and twist a beer cap off before handing it to Sara.

“Someone answer me, dammit.”

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