Beryl, with no idea about the latest discussion in the camper van, remained outside stewing about all she had done for Legless.
Her mind was a rush of illogical thoughts, raging jealousy, and drama—feelings she had never felt before. She watched Legless leave the bonfire to begin collecting things. Looking, Beryl told herself, pickling happy.
Looking,pickling happy.“How could he throw it all away for some loudmouth, alimony-obsessed woman?” she said to Izzie.
Izzie, bored and hungry, began to whine.
Beryl, with an “OK, poppet,” took her into the kitchen. She began to rummage for food.
What the hell is wrong with me? I should be thinking about saving the planet, not obsessing about Legless. Maybe I should jump on the couch, head home—leave him with Mandy and that pickling ex.
What the
