Jet and Indy high-fived.
Everyone else looked over to us.
“Roxie’s moving to Denver!” Indy yel ed across the room to Lee.
Lee’s eyes crinkled and cut to Hank.
Hank rocked back on his heels and he crossed his arms on his chest. I rol ed my eyes at him and when I was done with my eye rol , his lips were turned up on the ends.
“You’re moving to Denver?” Mom asked, staring at me.
“You’re moving to Denver?” Mom asked, staring at me.
Oh shit.
I hadn’t told Mom and Dad yet.
“Um, yeah,” I said.
Mom’s face froze then she blinked.
“You can’t move to Denver,” she said. “What’re you gonna do at Christmas? Thanksgiving? Oh, Sweet Jesus.
Easter! You know we always have a special, honey-baked ham at Easter. You’re the best with the Easter egg dyes too. Mimi and Gil can’t dye eggs like you. Who’s gonna dye my eggs?”
“Mom, I’m thirty-one years old. We haven’t dyed eggs in fifteen years.”
She ignored me and went on. “And, do they even have persimmons out here? How are you gonna make persimmon pudding? I can’t mail them to you. You have to have them fresh or it doesn’t taste right. You know that.”
“Mom, I don’t make persimmon pudding, you do.”
“Wel , I can’t mail that to you either,” she said and then whirled on Hank. “We get Christmas!” she told him, as if she was cal ing shotgun in the car.
“Trish, calm down,” Dad said.
“I wil not calm down. My baby girl is moving halfway across the country.”
“She’s been moved away before,” Dad pointed out.
“Yeah, but that was with Bil y. We al knew he wouldn’t work out. We’re talking about Hank here. Look at him,” she pointed to Hank. “She’s never coming home. Never.”
“She ain’t movin’ to the moon, Trish,” Dad said.
“Might as wel be,” Mom turned back to me. “You hear even a hint that a blizzard’s coming, Roxanne Gisel e, you go straight to the store and buy toilet paper, you hear me?
And make a pot of chili or stew. Don’t get caught out. I don’t want a phone cal saying you starved to death, stuck in the house with no stew.” Her eyes moved to Daisy. “I hear the blizzards are bad here. People die.”
“That’s usual y old people, Mrs. Logan,” Daisy explained.
“And they normal y freeze to death.”
Daisy was trying to help but it was the wrong thing to say.
Mom’s eyes got big, then her back went ramrod straight and she grabbed her purse from the espresso counter.
“Right. We’re going out to buy blankets. Hank had, like, one extra blanket. He needs blankets. And logs for that fire in the back room. We’re getting blankets and logs. Come on, Herb.”
Dad dug in. “Woman, I’m enjoyin’ my lah-tay.”