Don let himself into the apartment, glancing at Emmett and me, taking shelter in one another on the couch.
A nod. That was all.
Storming from one room to another, he peered into every nook and cranny, especially under my bed and carefully opened the door to my closet. I heard him in the bathroom pulling back the shower curtain. There was a long pause after that.
"Do you ever clean your shower?"
"I spray stuff in there sometimes."
"How do you not... that's right. You had a maid who did that for you."
I felt like telling him to shut up, but the current climate was still tenuously cool. Too cool for raw humor. So, I let his jab at my privileged upbringing go by without comment.
A moment later, he was back in the living room, asking to see Emmett.
Emmett protested. His last experience
