Since tangling with a million other after-work shoppers in the grocery store had done little to calm her jangled nerves, her heart now rocketed into her throat. In general terms, she was a firm believer that the only life forms that properly belonged on roofs were birds and the occasional squirrel. Once in the driveway, she could barely get her car door open for the crush of small, chattering bodies. Words pelted her as she at last emerged, including “lights,” “cool,” “finally” and something about “stupid old Becky O’Brien.” She crunched her way across the frozen snow, grocery bags and purse clutched in one hand, Lucas hanging on to the other. From her porch roof to the second story stretched her aluminum extension ladder; like a crippled centipede, icicle lights already dangled across the lower half of the house, while garlands wound around the porch posts and swagged across the lintel. Eddie looked down. Grinned. “Hey.” At that precise moment, between her nerves and her wrong-time-of-month hormones, she realized just how much of a mess she was.
What do You think about What A Man's Gotta Do (2003)?
