Sarge and WillSarge sipped morning coffee. He’d gotten in late the night before. Another VA crisis.
“I’m worried,” Will said, whispering. “What was that all about?”
“What? The VA? Turned out t’ be nothin’.”
“No. Greta. Sh-h. Shelley’s upstairs. Doesn’t need to overhear us. Must be heartbroken.”
“Yeah,” Sarge said. “Expectin’ Mother Teresa, got Cinderella’s stepmother. Cold, cold woman.”
“Doesn’t compute, babe. Shel’s raved about the woman for months, how much she loved the old bat, how Greta took such good care when Amy wasn’t around. You saw the guest room. An act of love. She gave that room a total makeover to make the old woman happy. And then Frau Greta treated our daughter like shit.”
“Tore m’ heart out,” Sarge said. “But maybe she’s changed in the last half a year. Maybe losin’
