“How you doin’, child?”
“Peachy keen, thanks for asking.”
Staring at me with an air of contemplation, she crunches on her pickle while I tap on the keyboard, trying to will her away. The woman has to be the world’s loudest eater. She could be snacking on a marshmallow and somehow make it sound like she’s grinding her molars on a mouthful of rocks.
Finally, she says lightly, “Oh, I nearly forgot.”
It sounds like she really means, “I’ve been thinking for days of exactly the right way to say this.” With a sigh, I settle back into my chair and wait.
Smacking her lips, she swallows the last bite of pickle. “Did you see there’s a Harry Potter marathon goin’ on over at the AMC?”
I jolt upright, almost knocking the jar of pens off my desk in the process. “No, I didn’t see that!
When does it
