Photo prompt © Jean L. Hays
“Lush, ain’t it?” The sixteen-year-old shivered in her short jacket.
Frosty patches dotted the monochrome shrubbery. She nudged one with her sneaker. “So, why exactly did you choose this godforsaken nothingness for your midlife crisis? Couldn’t have been the view, or the amenities.”
It’s fixable, Branden thought but said nothing. He’d worry more if Lizzie didn’t quip. And anyway, he knew she knew why they’d had to move.
Lizzie sniffed. He offered a tissue but she leaned into him, seeking a rare hug.
“Mama would’ve loved it here,” she whispered. “Even if we hadn’t lost everything to the medical bills.”