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“That’s bacteria, baby,” Clarissa chimes in.
“That’s what I said, gah.”
“Uh huh,” she replies. I can hear the smile in her voice.
“Troy, when are you coming back?” Dante asks pulling the phone and conversation from Clarissa’s reach. “How many sleeps?”
“Thirty, little man.”
“That’s too many!” He whines.
“Okay, go set the table,” Clarissa says, taking the phone.
“K. Bye, Troy!”
“Night, bud.”
Clarissa watches his retreat before turning back to face me. “We’ve got about a minute.”
“I miss the hell out of you.”
“That’ll teach you not to be such a badass. What’s the housing like?”
“Lifeless, shitty. I want some of that pot roast.”
“I’ll make some when you get home.”
“Yeah?”
“Of course.”
“Talked to Mom, said she’s watching Dante tomorrow night.”
“Yeah,” her eyes dart away. “I’ve got a parent-teacher conference. Is that okay?”
“Do they still have parent-teacher conferences in high school?”
“They do if their kid writes, ‘Ms. Arden has DSL’s on the chalkboard.’”
“DSL’s?”
She leans in on a whisper. “Dick sucking lips.”
I throw my head back with a laugh.
“Har, har, laugh it up.”
“Yeah, well, just remember those lips belong to—”
“And he’s back,” Clarissa warns.
“Blocked by my own sperm,” I mutter.
“What’s sperm?”
I show all my teeth as Clarissa gives me wide eyes. “Thanks, Troy. Really.”
“Sorry.” ‘I miss you,’ I mouth.
