Chapter One, The Fake Out (cont'd)
"Liz, honey," Mama began cleaning her nails, her fingers arched. "You ought to fall down on your knees and be grateful that your daddy is ambitious."
"Maybe some other time."
"Fine, joke. Joke." Mama gripped the arms of her chaise lounge as if it were a mechanical bull. "But remember this, Lady Jane, football is our bread and butter."
"Y'all, this is our vacation," urged my ten-year-old sister, Peaches, from her Marilyn Monroe towel. "I think you should just quit and be nice."
Mama fixed an eye on Peaches. "If your big sister would simply try to have a good attitude, she might see that moving to Cincinnati is not the end of the world."
"It would be the end of the world for me. I've lived in eight states in seventeen years. I'm going to be a senior. I told you I wasn't moving again."