Lindsy
Mom starts yelling at me about James the moment I walk in the door. She asks if I've saved my reputation, if I've kept my head high, if I've kept my tears at bay, and I tell her yes on all counts. My mother is old school, as is this town, and appearance is everything.
I'm still furious at James for showing up at the diner in that manner. Not only because he had the audacity to come and sit in our booth, but also to cause a commotion in front of everyone? What on earth was he thinking?
I pick at my salad as I observe Mom sitting at the table, flipping through a magazine. People say we look alike, which pleases Mom, but I despise the comparisons. While I know Mom was stunning in her prime, all I see now is a woman desperately clinging to her youth.
Soon after, Dad arrives home,
