CHAPTER 34
You would think that in a situation like this, Patricia would storm out of the room. Except she doesn’t. It’s more like gliding, like she’s taking classes at charm school and balancing ten stinking books on her head.
I’m so mad I don’t even look at Jake. Obviously, he wasn’t the one who gave my kid Tylenol without asking me first, but if he wasn’t such a pushover, there’s no way the mother-in-law of Frankenstein would still be living under my roof.
I should have kicked her out that first week she was here. Fish and company both stink after three days, right? Of course I’m mad at her. And it’s not even the Tylenol. That’s just the final blow. No, what gets under my skin is the way she presents herself as so selfless and faultless. Like she’s a stinking martyr. Nobody asked her
