What Happens at G’Ma’s, Stays at G’Ma’s
I remember when Quincey was 17 and we went out of town for the first time. “No friends over,” I told her. Steve was quick to add. “Especially not boys.” Boys, bad. “And no loud music,” I said. “Don’t even think about having a party, Missy,” Steve folded his arms. Quincey groaned and rolled her […]
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