The Writer Becomes Even Grumpier - If Possible
“Indeed, that it did.”
Mrs. McCarthy was suspiciously silent, so I decided to pry; once in a while, questions can be good, you know.
“Is there something you wish to tell me?”
Mrs. McCarthy turned around, as if she had expected the question. “You’ve ‘ad a falling out with that friend of yers, right?”
“How did you know about that?” was my initial reaction, but I said : “As a matter of fact, yes.”
“Well, there’ll be no dispute under this roof,” Mrs. McCarthy said, waving a wooden spoon in my direction. “Besides, we need groceries.”
“Oh, Mrs. McCarthy – ” I knew what she was getting at.
She wanted me and Raine to shop together.
“I’ll be heading over to the Gardening Club fer a while, and I’d like you to shop what’s on this list.”
She handed me an inventory of groceries, and I looked up at her.
“Can’t I go alone?”
“You can’t possibly carry those by yerself.”
“O-okay…”
Inside of me, I was screaming : “No, no! Last thing I want to do is be alone with him!“
“Oh, g’morning, Raine!”