My Family’s choice
“I know that.”
I roll my eyes, grabbing my purse. As we head downstairs, I find Pookie playing with his favorite smiley ball in the living room. Tyler’s lips twitch when he spots the little furball bouncing around, and for a second, I see a glimpse of something I rarely do — a real smile.
Mrs. Smith appears from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron.
“Are you sure you’ll be fine?” I ask her for the hundredth time.
“Yes, honey. Go and enjoy dinner,” she says warmly, scooping Pookie into her arms.
Bab Populer