Poppy cussed and jerked her hand away before killing the burner. Sweat dripped off her face, but not tears. A stupid little burn didn’t warrant tears though they were closer to the surface than normal. Poppy hurried to the sink and ran cold water over the redness. She preferred canning in her ground-floor kitchen, but Mary already had the business kitchen stocked. The basement area sported all the necessities and even a sound system, but no windows. Her personal sink overlooked the backyard where the girls would be playing around this time, Grandma or one of the grandpas pushing them on swings. The pattering of little feet down the stairs made her smile. She looked over her shoulder, not sure which one of her three daughters would soon make an appearance. Dee, buck naked and covered in mud, tore through the basement, leaving a trail of black, wet dirt behind her on the gray carpet. “What are you doing, you crazy baby?” Dee put her hands on her hips.
What do You think about Poppy's Present (Poppy's Place)?
