“Hey, Mrs. Schulz!” she said brightly when I opened the front door. I had yet to discover how the old Southern version of hello had migrated westward, but never mind.
“Hey,” I replied congenially. “Come in.”
Lettie stepped across the threshold, closed her eyes, and inhaled. “It always smells so great in here!”
“Can I offer you a cookie? Some juice? It’s all ready—”
“That sounds—”
“Hey,” came Arch’s growled greeting from the top of the stairs.
Lettie sparkled. “Good morning, Arch.”
“How about a snack?” I ventured.
“We need to go, Mom,” Arch answered sternly. Today he wore baggy khaki pants, an oversized green sport shirt, and a sleek black vest. He’d combed his dark brown hair back with mousse; it stood in short spikes. If I hugged him a bit carelessly, my cheek would be speared. No
