Sunday, May 1, 2011


From nearly two years of one-sided conversations I knew Fiona's sister was on Xanax and married to a millionaire developer who said he'd hid his money offshore in case they ever split up. At my last cleaning, they were headed for a divorce and Fiona's sister was saying she'd call the IRS on him. But now it turns out he's threatening to call the American Dental Association about Fiona's father smoking pot.
     “Nurr-uh!” I say.
      Fiona's hands and her scraper pause inside my mouth. “So, Russ and me, we’ve been having problems too,” she says. 
     I rinse and I spit.

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