Hatch
Monday night, I got home to find Maisie in a knock-down, drag-out with our oldest boy, Flash. His real name was Parker, but we’d called him Flash ever since he was little because as soon as he could walk, he was off and running. The only thing faster than his feet was his mind. Very little about him had changed over the years, except these days he always seemed to be in a bad mood.
“What’s the rule, Parker?” Maisie growled.
“The rule’s stupid!” he snapped.
I did not like the tone he was usin’ with his mother.
“What the f**k’s goin’ on?” I demanded, walking into the kitchen.
Maisie raised her hands in defeat and turned her back.
I faced my son. “Flash?”
“He has a D in three classes,” Maisie provided.
“I have a D in two classes,” Flash corrected. “I have a D+ in science.”
“Y
