” “Where’s Papa?”I sighed. “He was in a mood, so I sent him to the cabin.”Momma grumbled under her breath and scrubbed twice as hard. “...atch where you’re…Too late. My two step turned into a tango and I landed flat on my back. That bucket of mop water I tripped over had sloshed all over Momma; causing that thin fabric to cling to her breasts. Momma never wore a bra, I didn't even know what the things were till I was in my thirties. Momma stood and shook her head at me before sloshing suds off. With theother, he was casually navigating the internet on his laptop, searchingfor discount bicycle parts. He looked up from the screen. "It's perfect,baby. You look great."Marcia frowned. "You say the same thing each time." That's because it's true each time. Really, Marsh, you'd have more toworry about if you were trying to look bad. Stop over-thinking thewardrobe. She's a teenager; if you're over thirty-five, you could showup in a pair of rubber hip-waders with a fruit bowl balanced on. More

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