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Henry reached over her head for the cups, and she pushed his arm.

“Move.”

“I’m getting the cups.”

“I can reach.”

“No, you can’t.”

“Yes, I can.”

I watched them bicker their way back out the kitchen.

Young love.

That shit looked exhausting.

The doorbell rang again.

“Goddamn.”

I went to answer it.

Cheryl stood on the other side holding a covered aluminum pan.

“Well, look who it is.”

She rolled her eyes. “Move, Levin.”

“Nice to see you too, Cheryl.”

I took the pan from her and stepped aside.

“So Aruba, huh?”

She stopped.

Then slowly looked at me.

“I swear that boy got too much mouth telling you my business.”

I shrugged. “Well, he’s been over here.”

“Yeah, because of Charlene.”

The way she said Charlene told me everything I needed to know.

I laughed. “You don’t like the girl?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You ain’t have to.”

“I like her fine.”

“Mhm.”

“I just don’t like my seventeen-year-old son suddenly needing to spend every damn night at his father’s house because some little girl lives down the street.”