That was another thing about Sienna. She could turn a sentence into a room you had to defend yourself inside.
“When are they arriving?” I asked.
“Friday. They’re flying into Toronto, then taking the bus up to Huntsville. You can pick them up at the terminal. They’ll need the main bedroom, of course. Beverly has back issues, and Gordon needs room for his files. Oh, and Frank, don’t make this difficult.”
She paused, but it was not the pause of someone waiting for an answer.
“My parents are good people,” she said. “They deserve better than being cramped in our condo. And honestly, if you’re going to live alone in the woods and make everyone worry, at least let the space be useful.”
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