Thyme asked. I could hear Sage breathing heavily and unevenly in a pathetic attempt to hold back her laughter on her end. “Just go ahead and laugh, Sage. You sound like a pervert,” I told her before addressing Thyme’s question. “Yeah, it’ll be like those people who eat blowfish in Japan.” “Jeez, Rosie, you don’t have to be so cranky,” Thyme shot back. “Sorry. But I need to do something to earn some money. And everyone is telling me I should take advantage of my unwanted celebrity.” Everyone being one police detective and the woman who runs the kitchen at a homeless shelter, but my sisters didn’t need to know the details. Sage hemmed then said, “Here’s the thing. Do you want to open a catering business? Because Thyme and I were talking. Despite old Doug the accountant’s persistent doom and gloom scenarios, we’re making a lot of progress toward cleaning up Mom and Dad’s debt.
