rubbing the back of Lucky and picking up Dreamy, my two Maltipoos. Cicely had a long streak
of gray hair and still wore high heeled shoes at her age and stayed stylish, thanks to my family,
constantly spoiling her. We tried to get her to retire and travel the world, but she refused and
always said there was nothing for her to see unless Billy, her late husband, was with her to see
the world, too.
“Did you have fun?” Cicely questioned. I nuzzled up close to Lucky, lifted my eyes at her
question, and smiled.
“Oh Lord,” Cicely said, dramatically throwing her hands up in prayer.
I busted out in laughter.
“Don’t worry. I protected myself, Cicely. You worry too much, just like Mommy,” I said,
sitting up and turning the station to RuPaul’s Drag Race.
“I’ll end up having a heart
