20
“Oh, dear,” Edna said, stopping near the two cars. “We should turn around.”
“No,” Mrs. Janowski said. “That dirty, no good scoundrel! Pop the trunk. Ol’ Bessie and I will take care of this.”
A war engulfed me. I wanted to run away, yet I also wanted to storm the house with Mrs. Janowski and take no prisoners. After last night’s brief conversation with Brett, I knew we’d left our problems unresolved. But, there was still a spark of hope that things would be worked out once we had more time to sit down and talk like rational adults.
But this . . . this did not make me rational.
Mrs. Janowski decided on her route when she charged from the car and stomped up the path. With her loud banging on the door, it didn’t take long for Brett to open it, sleepy and shirtless. Just jeans and bare
