Family Pictures
“Who are all those people in our yard?” Buck is walking past the window, crunching on an apple as he calls through to the kitchen. “Landscapers?” I call back hopefully, because the landscapers had to be fired, and the grass is of a level that may not ever have been seen before in New Salem. Buck offered to cut it himself, but of course I haven’t owned a lawn mower my entire adult life, and now a lawn mower is the last thing we can afford. “Do landscapers drive News 12 trucks?” I hear Buck say, b...efore groaning under his breath. “Shit. This isn’t good.” I gasp when I join him at the window, seeing the NBC and CBS news trucks outside, the crowds of people standing around my front yard, reporters speaking into cameras, gesturing toward the house, crews setting up, even having the temerity to eat their bagels and rest their paper coffee cups on my goddamn lawn. “That’s her!” someone shouts from outside. The crowd turns as if one, breaking into a run toward the house as I dart back from the window and lean against the wall, breathing hard.MoreLess
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