We walked into a low green house full of open glass windows and empty planters. If she meant to pull me out and direct me away from her face, it was just a second too late, and my first spurt caught her in the throat. She had on dirty work gloves and stood up straight once I saw her, flicking her fingers clear of dirt as she waited for my reply. Or three weeks spent sleeping in the van. “Sorry.”
“What is this?” she asked with another frown. “Honey, you got to move fast to beat the vultures. She let go of my hand, turning and tossing her gloves down near her garden tools, before putting both her own hands on her back to stretch, arching her back and pushing her ample breasts up and out. It’s just going to boil over.” she said. Lynn didn’t say a word, and I felt her tense up a little.
