I jogged downstairs and met Amy as she prepared breakfast. I offer to help, but she shuts me down.
“Hey, Amy.” I plop myself down on the stool at the island bench and watch her as she spins and dances around the kitchen as she cooks. I wonder why she’s in such a good mood.
“Yes, baby” she twirls towards the fridge and pulls out a gallon of orange juice.
“I’m out of clothes. I know I have a few outfits of yours, but I really need more. I wish I could return to Crescent moon, but that’s not exactly an option.” I couldn’t even ring my parents and ask them to ship it. It would be reckless.
She slides a glass of orange juice towards me, pours her own, she’s sloshing it everywhere, but the mess doesn’t seem to bother her. I don’t know what got her in such a good mood, but I hope it staye
