“How would she know? She’s come by only once since…since the funeral, as if I can manage on my own.” Her eyes narrowed. “But at least she bothered to come by. You? How long has it been?”

Laura mentally threw up her hands. She wanted to scream. She wanted to run. But, no. She could do neither. Her mother was in a wheelchair, for God’s sake. She couldn’t just walk out on her. She wasn’t however, going to play games.

“I don’t know how long it’s been, Mom. How long were you married to that jerk? Seven years?”

“Laura Sue Fry! The man has been buried less than a week. Have you no decency?”

Laura rolled her eyes. “I hated the man, Mom.”

Her mother raised her chin. “He was my husband,” she said, as if that mattered.

“He was an obnoxious jerk! Nobody liked him! Nobody could stand to be around him!”

“You never took the time to get to know him. He was a good man.”

“No. Dad was a good man. Frankie didn’t come close.”

“Your father left me a widow at fifty-eight. What was I to do? Live the best years of my life alone?”

“No, Mom. But you didn’t give it a chance. You grabbed the first jerk that came along. You let him move in with you!”

“I’ll not have you talk about Frankie that way!”

She pointed at the wheelchair. “He’s the reason you’re in that chair! He’s the reason you can’t live alone at the young age of sixty-five!”

Her mother stared at her in disbelief. “How dare you?”

“I dare because it’s the truth.”

Her mother spun her chair around. “You are simply too hard to get along with. You always were. Your father spoiled you rotten! I told Carla this would never work.”

“So did I! She made me come anyway,” she yelled to her mother’s retreating back. She grabbed the bridge of her nose and squeezed it.

Well, that actually went better than I expected.

Chapter Two

“You knew that was going to happen. Mom knew you were going to talk trash about Frankie and you knew she was going to yell at you. It’s over with. Now go unpack your car and move into your old room.”

“You live forty-five minutes away,” Laura complained. “Why the hell am I moving in with her? Ever since Dad died, we haven’t gotten along.”

“No. Ever since Frankie, you haven’t gotten along,” her sister clarified.

“Yeah, funny how that happened at exactly the same time!”

“We had six months with her. You two were as close as ever, if you recall. Frankie is gone now. Maybe it’s time you grew up and gave her a second chance.”

“Grow up? Says the woman who still sleeps in Mickey Mouse pajamas.”

Carla laughed. “How do you even know that?”