Don’t you two dare say a thing,” she pointed a finger at us, straightening her skirt with the other hand. “Just bite your tongues.”
“You look great, Lucinda.”
“And you’re a liar and should have your mouth washed out with soap,” she tugged on the sleeves of her cardigan.
“Nice pearls,” I pointed to her neck.
“Didn’t I tell ya’ll to bite yer tongues,” Gram’s southern drawl became more pronounced when she was irritated.

Author: Micalea Smeltzer