The Inquest
May 9th
Houston is turning into a problem. Or should I say his tendency to not wear shirts while working around the house is turning into a problem.
My friend Janice is sitting at the kitchen table and watching Houston repair one of the cabinet doors that came loose. While his back is to her, she bites her bottom lip and gives me the You Go Girl look.
“Behave,” I mouth at her. She rolls her eyes and pretends to lean over to pinch his ass. I slap my palm on the table. Janice jumps. Houston turns around.
“What, is it not even?” he says.
“No, its fine,” I say. “Mosquito.” I pretend to wipe the table with a napkin. My ruse doesn’t work. He glances over at Janice and turns bright red before turning back toward the cabinet. I signal for Janice to follow me out of the kitchen.
