A door must be open or shut. Cluck opened the Morris Cowley’s passenger side. He watched Lace stare into the truck cab. The look on her face wasn’t fear, the skittishness of a bitten animal, un chat échaudé qui craint l’eau froide. It was suspicion. People always found something they didn’t like ...
Often, she brought home blue-rinded Jarrahdale pumpkins and deep orange Rouge Vif d’Etampes, and Miel would hide in the hallway closet. Aracely would narrate her progress from the kitchen. I’m splitting it open, Miel. Okay, now I’m hollowing it out. I’m putting it in the pot now. But Miel stayed ...
