Ready for Company
The luckier among us get to feel like their world is in order, their people safe. For the rest, too often it seems the more we strive for order, the greater the disarray. Margie is not so much an exaggeration as I would like to think.
This place looks a filthy mess, Margie thought.
“Three miserable years,” Babs announced, tromping around the kitchen, bagel in one hand, crumbs everywhere, juice dribble dribbling down the carton. “Three years today.” She stabbed the calendar with a butter knife, then tossed it carelessly into the sink, greasy smudges and smears staining the stainless-steel basin. “That’s three years more than anybody should try to live with the likes of you. I’m gonna mark the occasion by spending it the hell away from here.” She bit the bagel, then wipe
