sister-in-law? That must be embarrassing.”
“That isn’t the way it is. They’re new in town. They don’t know anyone. You should enjoy the opportunity to get out and go somewhere.”
“Forget it, Sister. I’m not interested. I’ve got too much to do to put up with some demanding man. That let’s-get-acquainted dance is too much trouble. And I don’t even like football.”
Lanita heaved another sigh. “My God, Joanna. Have you looked in the mirror lately? You might still look great, but you’re thirty-five years old. You’re becoming an old maid.”
Joanna had heard herself referred as to an old maid so often, she felt as if it were tattooed across her forehead. The label had hurt her feelings when she had first heard it, but she had grown a hard shell and become immune to it.
Lanita was nearly a head shorter than Joanna. She’d had three kids and hadn’t lost extra pounds after any one of them. That and a soft office job put her on the pudgy side. Joanna wouldn’t hurt her feelings by mentioning any of that. But she did stop her task to give her sister an indignant glower. “I like who and what I am just fine, thank you.”
She turned to the cupboards, opened a door and found paper plates and large red plastic cups. Most people had some kind of china or pottery serving dishes in their cupboards, but not Alvadean Walsh. Joanna pulled down three of the paper plates.
“Let’s eat on real dishes,” Lanita said. “Me and the kids eat on paper plates all the time at home.”
“Mom decided dishes that have to be washed are too much trouble,” Joanna said.
Lanita frowned. “She’s got a dishwasher.”
Instead of replying, Joanna reached for three plastic cups and lined them up on the counter.
For the first time, Lanita looked at the cupboard contents. “So now she just has paper plates and plastic cups?” Lanita’s voice was laced with puzzlement and indignation.
“Afraid so. But she does vary the colors and patterns.”
Lanita rolled her big green eyes. She and Joanna both had their daddy’s eyes. “This is ridiculous,” she snapped.
Joanna chuckled. “It’s her house, Sister. She can do what she wants.”
“I don’t care. It’s still ridiculous. I suppose we’re going to have to eat with plastic forks, too.” She yanked open the drawer where stainless-steel flatware had always been kept and found nothing but white plastic.
Now Joanna’s chuckle evolved into a laugh. She had grown accustomed to her mother’s latest effort to avoid keeping house. “Hey, you know Mom. You don’t live here, remember? And neither do I. To each his own.”
“Where do you suppose she put all of the dishes we used to have?” Lanita asked.
“I think she packed them up and put them in the storeroom out back.”
“Why didn’t she give them to me? Or to you?”
“Well, of all the things I need, Sister, a set of cheap dishes isn’t one of them.”
“Well, I could use them. I don’t even have a whole set anymore. The only ones I ever had were what I got as a wedding present, and the kids have broken half of those.”
“I guess you could ask her for them,” Joanna said. “It won’t hurt my feelings. And I think I’d be safe in betting a million she isn’t going to use them.”
Lanita shook her head, pursing her mouth and not attempting to hide her annoyance. “Oh, not today. I don’t want to start something. I see the house is practically sparkling. At least she hasn’t give up cleaning the house.”
“That isn’t entirely true, either. A Mexican woman named Lupe comes in on Saturdays and cleans. So you caught it at its best.”
Lanita set the plastic utensils on the counter with a clack. “Mom has a maid?”
“Yep. Every Saturday.”
“That really pisses me off,” Lanita snapped, her eyes wide with ire. “I don’t have a maid myself, and I’ve got three kids. Why, Darrell and I have been sending her a hundred dollars every month because we thought she was having a
“That isn’t the way it is. They’re new in town. They don’t know anyone. You should enjoy the opportunity to get out and go somewhere.”
“Forget it, Sister. I’m not interested. I’ve got too much to do to put up with some demanding man. That let’s-get-acquainted dance is too much trouble. And I don’t even like football.”
Lanita heaved another sigh. “My God, Joanna. Have you looked in the mirror lately? You might still look great, but you’re thirty-five years old. You’re becoming an old maid.”
Joanna had heard herself referred as to an old maid so often, she felt as if it were tattooed across her forehead. The label had hurt her feelings when she had first heard it, but she had grown a hard shell and become immune to it.
Lanita was nearly a head shorter than Joanna. She’d had three kids and hadn’t lost extra pounds after any one of them. That and a soft office job put her on the pudgy side. Joanna wouldn’t hurt her feelings by mentioning any of that. But she did stop her task to give her sister an indignant glower. “I like who and what I am just fine, thank you.”
She turned to the cupboards, opened a door and found paper plates and large red plastic cups. Most people had some kind of china or pottery serving dishes in their cupboards, but not Alvadean Walsh. Joanna pulled down three of the paper plates.
“Let’s eat on real dishes,” Lanita said. “Me and the kids eat on paper plates all the time at home.”
“Mom decided dishes that have to be washed are too much trouble,” Joanna said.
Lanita frowned. “She’s got a dishwasher.”
Instead of replying, Joanna reached for three plastic cups and lined them up on the counter.
For the first time, Lanita looked at the cupboard contents. “So now she just has paper plates and plastic cups?” Lanita’s voice was laced with puzzlement and indignation.
“Afraid so. But she does vary the colors and patterns.”
Lanita rolled her big green eyes. She and Joanna both had their daddy’s eyes. “This is ridiculous,” she snapped.
Joanna chuckled. “It’s her house, Sister. She can do what she wants.”
“I don’t care. It’s still ridiculous. I suppose we’re going to have to eat with plastic forks, too.” She yanked open the drawer where stainless-steel flatware had always been kept and found nothing but white plastic.
Now Joanna’s chuckle evolved into a laugh. She had grown accustomed to her mother’s latest effort to avoid keeping house. “Hey, you know Mom. You don’t live here, remember? And neither do I. To each his own.”
“Where do you suppose she put all of the dishes we used to have?” Lanita asked.
“I think she packed them up and put them in the storeroom out back.”
“Why didn’t she give them to me? Or to you?”
“Well, of all the things I need, Sister, a set of cheap dishes isn’t one of them.”
“Well, I could use them. I don’t even have a whole set anymore. The only ones I ever had were what I got as a wedding present, and the kids have broken half of those.”
“I guess you could ask her for them,” Joanna said. “It won’t hurt my feelings. And I think I’d be safe in betting a million she isn’t going to use them.”
Lanita shook her head, pursing her mouth and not attempting to hide her annoyance. “Oh, not today. I don’t want to start something. I see the house is practically sparkling. At least she hasn’t give up cleaning the house.”
“That isn’t entirely true, either. A Mexican woman named Lupe comes in on Saturdays and cleans. So you caught it at its best.”
Lanita set the plastic utensils on the counter with a clack. “Mom has a maid?”
“Yep. Every Saturday.”
“That really pisses me off,” Lanita snapped, her eyes wide with ire. “I don’t have a maid myself, and I’ve got three kids. Why, Darrell and I have been sending her a hundred dollars every month because we thought she was having a
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