“I’m not even wearing underwear, Ma. So, no, no money. And coffee’s downstairs. Or, better yet, at the Starbuck’s ten miles down the street.”
She failed to notice my resentment. Par for the course. As for said course, my ball had clearly landed in a sand trap. “I’ll go make it,” she said. “Do you take cream or sugar, Benji?”
“Black,” he said.
Black, like the cloud forming in my head. “Sugar,” I replied. “Promise not to burn down the house while you’re making it.”
“Promise,” she said, and was up and out before I could tell her to stay clear of the toaster.
Benji rolled on top of me. “Is she always like that?”
I grimaced. “Always. And congrats.” I tried to sound like I meant it. I mean, I did mean it. This was a big break for him, but what would happen if we also had a big break? And h
