This is from the Griggs.
Addressed to Karen Ratcliff.
The next time you attack our mom, you won’t be allowed into DG Auto and body.
The next time your sewer lines clog up, don’t call Granger’s.
The next time you need to make sure your husband gives you another STD, don’t visit Dr. Mabry.
The next time you need help with a police matter, don’t call 911.
The next time you need a massage because you threw your back out climbing on the ugly fuck you married, don’t call Fusion.
Think about all of that before you try to verbally attack our mother again.
Because she was ten times better than you in high school.
But now, she’s a hundred times better.
Ain’t our fault, our dad has more common sense than you and your husband put together.
Sincerely,
Carter. Garrick. Ethan. Alec. Talia.
Harlee. Dominik. Granger. Dr. Mabry. Chief Klein.
Mom glared at all of us and then locked her gaze on me.
Oh. Shit.
Our dad was kicked back in his recliner with his hand over his mouth, and we all knew he was trying hard not to laugh.
We never wanted to get on our mom’s bad side, and our dad, truly, never wanted to.
But sometimes, you just couldn’t help it.
Like right now.
And then she dropped the bomb that was sure to straighten everything back out and make it all right as rain, in her eyes, “I’m calling Harlee.”
I felt my smile drop instantly off my face.
“Oh. Shit.” Garrick said, shaking his head.
Talia’s face went white.
Ethan groaned.
Alec just kept laughing.
There was something seriously wrong with him, and I asked before I thought about it, “Did y’all drop that one on his head or something?”
My dad couldn’t help it. Laughter bubbled up from behind his hand.
Mom glared at me, then snapped, “No. He’s perfect.”
Alec chose that moment in time to let out a fart.
