Chapter 41

Do I have to get a shot?

No.

Do you feel okay?

I’m fine. 28: Dinner at Mama’s House

We picked up Jackson’s parents at the hotel, and as we drove to New Albany, we got an earful about Faulkner’s house while Jackson fiddled anxiously with the radio, trying to find a news station to get updates on the tornado watch. What he received were gospel singings, sermons, and dispatches from right wing radio talk shows. We conveniently pretended that I hadn’t stormed off from the restaurant the other night, and we said not a word about the lovely folks at the DHS visiting our apartment the day before.

“I hate your frikkin’ tornadoes,” Jackson muttered.

“Nothing’s going to happen,” I replied easily.

“Easy for you to say.”

“I’ve lived here my whole life and have never once seen a tornado,” I replied. “And I don’t plan on starting today. Haven’t you ever been to a hurricane party? You need to get out more.”

He muttered, pursed his lips.

“It’ll be fine,” I said. “Honestly.”