that matter, and I’d just as soon leave it at that.
Anyway, they woke me up by jumping on the king-sized bed and all going ‘Mom!’ at the same time.
I sat up. ‘What?’ I asked in a not-very-kind voice.
Then I saw the tears in Bess’s eyes, the shock in Alicia’s and the ‘wait until I tell you this’ look in Megan’s.
‘What’s up?’ I asked.
‘Keith and Kenny’s mom got killed!’ Megan said. ‘Murdered! Strangled in her own home! Bludgeoned to death! Then hung from their second-floor balcony!’
Bess elbowed Megan. ‘That’s not what happened,’ she said, sniffing back tears. ‘Or at least, I don’t think so. That sounds like overkill.’
Then Bess and Megan looked at each and both had to cover their mouths to keep from laughing out loud. I think maybe my children have been around a little too many dead bodies in their relatively short lives.
‘God, y’all, stop it!’ Alicia said. ‘This isn’t funny!’ Being new to the family, Alicia still had appropriate feelings.
Then my door burst open again and Graham, my soon-to-graduate son, came rushing in. He saw where Alicia was sitting and moved to the other side of the bed to sit down. Not too obvious, kid.
‘I take it they told you about Keith and Ken’s mom?’ Graham asked.
‘Yes, and Luna was over earlier. So I had heard.’
‘We’ve got to do something for those boys,’ Alicia said.
‘Like what?’ Megan asked. ‘Make them cookies?’ she said, her tone sarcastic.
‘Actually,’ I said, ‘that’s a good idea. That’s what people do when there’s been a death. Make food, take it to the family . . .’
‘Did people do that when the Lesters died?’ Bess asked, speaking of her birth family.
I smiled. ‘They sure did. I think we ended up with three of those sweet potato casseroles with the marshmallows on top. They stayed in the fridge for a week before I ended up throwing them out.’
‘That sounds good,’ Graham said. ‘I could go for some marshmallows right now.’
Ignoring my son, I said to the girls, ‘I think we should start work on this right now. Let’s see what we have in the fridge and pantry, then make a grocery list, and since I’m sure Graham’s going to refuse to help us cook he can go to the grocery store and get the stuff we need. Oh, and pick up one of those rotisserie chickens so I won’t have to worry about dinner.’
With that, the girls and I jumped off the bed and headed into the kitchen.
Trisha and her girls showed up about the time Graham got back from the store, so it ended up with Trisha and me doing most of the cooking while the girls babysat/played with Trisha’s girls. Alicia, the sane one, helped with the cooking. We made a batch of brownies, and a green salad. Trisha ran to her house and brought back stuff to make a from-scratch lasagna and her famous church supper potato casserole. I stayed downwind of all of it as much as possible.
MEGAN
I have nothing against Alicia; she’s a perfectly nice girl, if not just a little creepy – all that hair last year practically covering her face. She looks better this year with the make-over me and Bess gave her, but Bess and I had this thing – it’s not like we were BFFs or anything, not since we were, like, kids, but we had a workable relationship. Sorta me and Bess against the world kinda thing. Now Alicia’s in the mix and I feel left out.
Not that I really care. They were babysitting Mrs McClure’s girls, so I took that moment to scoot into the living room and text my new BFFs, Azalea and D’Wanda, who are twins. Fraternal not identical. Azalea’s hair is longer and her feet are bigger, and D’Wanda has a mole behind her left ear. Other than that, it’s hard to tell them apart. They’re African American and cheerleaders and very popular, and they think hanging with me will help their rep. I’m not sure about that, but me hanging with them has certainly helped mine. Anyway, I texted them about Keith and Kenny’s