James read the last message from Allison, then shoved his phone in his pocket.
“There’s a look I haven’t seen since you were in high school and dating the Hamilton girl. Who is she?”
“What?” He stared at his mother a moment. “I send a couple texts while you cook and it has to be a girl?”
“No, but to do it with that look on your face when you get a message? Yeah, that makes it a girl. So tell me about her.”
James gave her small bits of information about Ally, inconsequential stuff like her hair and eye color, hoping it might appease her.
“That’s nice,” Mom said as she mixed the dough for biscuits. “But tell me the real stuff. Is she a good person?”
“I think so. We’ve not spent a lot of time together. I’ve only seen her a few times, but she couldn’t leave her animals behind to die when
