Jessica pointed toward the weathered barn. “I haven’t seen it this smoky since West Glacier burned up five years ago.” On their third round of vodka tonics, she and Lolita were sitting around her childhood table, trying to catch up with her mom, who had most likely been drinking all day.
“It’s so dry the bushes are following the dogs around.” Jessica drained her glass, slammed it on the rickety table with a bit too much force, and the table legs wobbled.
“Remember when you hit your head on this table and I had to take you to the emergency room for stitches?” her mom asked with a smile.
“Yeah, because you threw that spoon at me and I ducked.”
“You flung it at me first, you little beast.”
That chipped rubicund Formica table had witnessed her entire childhood, and its metal legs bowed un
