The dog’s nails tapping across the floor divert her attention from the
phone. She now hears the cartoon voices, the lawn mower, fridge, and
central air. The sound of the lawn mower peaks then quickly returns to
its previous buzz. She understands the pattern to mean that the mower
has passed near the window. Larry.
The conversation resumes:
— Him? He’ll be at Mom and Dad’s next. Then he’ll clean their gutters
or something. It’s passive agressive. Everything about him is — even
the way he cuts the grass. Every time exactly the same because he heard
somewhere it’s better for the grass to do it different. So he does it
— I don’t know. I don’t care.
— You’re right. I should.