Rick
Mom sits in her favorite white chair, slowly turning a magazine's pages. A grin teases her lips as she moves her head from left to right.
I pause for a moment, waiting for an acknowledgment.
"The next time, you're brother won't save you—"
I slam the door to get the reason I want.
Mom jumps.
The magazine falls from her lap.
I smirk.
"Well, Rick, you look stunning with the beard. You really should have done that years ago." Mom rushes to me.
"Keep pretending you have multiple personalities, Mom. I will find a way to put you in a facility."
She recoils. "You wouldn't."
I raise my eyebrow.
"Oh, alright," she walks away from me, sounding angry. "I will never apologize for doing the right thing. She will thank me later."
You're one screwed-up lady.
I watch Mom grab her magazin
