“Diana!”
She turned casually.
“Oh, good morning.”
“Don’t ‘good morning’ me. That’s my faucet. My water. My bill.”
She waved dismissively.
“What’s the big deal? It’s only water. Why should I waste my money when I can spend it on something I actually want?”
I stared at her.
“You’re stealing from me. My water bill doubled because you’re filling your pool from my house.”
She laughed.
“Stealing? Listen to yourself. We’re family.”
“We are not family anymore. Harold and I are divorced.”
She crossed her arms.
“My grandchildren live in that house. That makes it partly my house too.”
“No, it absolutely does not. And you’re going to pay this bill.”
She laughed even harder.
“You’ve always been so cheap. I’m not giving you a cent.”
“You owe me for the water you’ve taken.”
“I owe you nothing.”
Then she jabbed a finger toward me.
