Chapter 14“Do you call this lemonade?” Mrs. Fulton asked sourly, regarding the pale, yellow liquid in her glass with an expression that could have curdled cream. Her perfectly groomed, steel gray eyebrows lowered to the top of her steel-rimmed spectacles. Her thin lips pursed into a prune-like pucker. Even her metallic-gray curls seemed to quiver with disapproval.
Allison raised one eyebrow and took a sip. Pleasant, tart and sweet, and the floating ice makes it even more refreshing. “As a matter of fact, Mother,” she replied, “I do. What's the problem?”
“Oh, nothing,” Mrs. Fulton harrumphed in a tone that implied just the opposite.
Allison sighed. Wesley and I have been getting along better in the main, but his mother's another story. We've never liked each other, but she and Wes have b
