“Because she waits too much.”
I blinked.
“What?”
“Because she waits too much.”
Officer Bruce glanced at me, then back to Tyler.
“Your mom waits too much for ice cream?”
“For everything.”
The embarrassment I’d been feeling shifted into confusion.
“Tyler, honey, what are you talking about?”
He shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts.
“Nothing, Mom.”
“Your mom waits too much for ice cream?”
“No. You just called the police because apparently I wait too much. You’re finishing that sentence.”
Tyler looked toward the kitchen.
Officer Bruce followed his gaze.
From the porch, he could see part of the refrigerator.
“What’s that on your freezer?”
I looked.
“What’s that on your freezer?”
Our weekly calendar was held up with two magnets, one shaped like a taco and the other a broken plastic dinosaur Tyler refused to let me throw away.
Most squares were filled with ordinary things.
