The sun came through the window, and Liza looked up from her book to see particles of dust suspended in the air. The heat of July was already creeping through the glass as she sat in her threadbare armchair.
She turned the open book over and laid it on her growing belly and yawned. Six months pregnant, and she was already having trouble sleeping. October felt like a lifetime away.
Susan threw open the bedroom door with a crash, assaulting Liza’s calm.
“What the fuck you doing?” Susan asked, her words distorted by her smacking gum.
Still in a haze, Liza blinked and glanced at her book, rising and falling with the momentum of her breath, and looked back at Susan.
“Oh goddamn. Why you always gotta be reading a fucking book?”
Liza never knew how to react to Susan’s sharp tongue. “Helps pass the time.”
Susan moved her way to Liza’s bed and heaved her body down, shaking the cheap frame and causing the bed to shriek in pain. “Fuck, I’m fat. This kid has got to go. What’s the book this time?” She didn’t wait for an answer and picked it up. “Ramona the Brave? This a goddamn kiddie book. Fuck. You could at least be reading Carrie or some shit. That bitch is crazy. She’d never end up in no maternity home. She’d burn the motherfucker down first.”
Liza shrugged in passive agreement and held her hand out in a silent command for Ramona.
Susan let out a heavy sigh, dropped-threw the book on Liza’s stomach, and pushed her way out of the room.