The sliding patio door made a loud noise, catching our attention. Dr. Johnson went outdoors, holding a pitcher and two disposable cups.
David beamed and questioned his father, "What's that?" in a playful tone, as if it were a joke I hadn't gotten.
Dr. Johnson responded swiftly, "Fresh orange juicy." A little too rapidly.
In this case, David chuckled. Perhaps I should walk over and inform her that you find orange to be a particularly unpleasant flavor. Those cookies would be easy enough for her to bake again. The brownies, perhaps? The acclaim they received was well-deserved.
My brow furrowed in bewilderment. Swimming beside me, David encircled me with his arms.
Our next-door neighbor just went through a divorce and is now romantically interested in my father. To this day, she has been attempting to woo him with sweet treats. Constriction set in as he tightened his grip. “Hey. Why have you stopped making baked goods for me to enjoy?