“Wasn’t he cute? And that smile . . . I want one.”
“It takes planning,” Stacey said.
“I don’t care. I want one.”
Stacey laughed. “I used to be just like that. Trust me, seventeen is too young to have kids,” she said, but her niece wasn’t listening and, instead, was turning the pages of the photo album. It was filled with pictures of Stacey’s only child, Lewis. Her niece giggled as she browsed and was about to say something until the living room door opened. The smell of marijuana identified who had arrived without the two of them having to look at him. Lewis’s lanky figure entered the room, and he slouched in the empty arm chair without speaking. Both women remained quiet as he burped and put one foot over the armrest.