Schuyler

Stepping from my shower, I wrap my hair in a small towel on top of my head and secure another towel under my arms. I’m wiping the moisture from the large vanity mirror with a spare cloth when I hear a knock on the door.

“Schuyler, your mother is on the phone,” Calvin calls through the closed door.

“Come in,” I call back to him. “Can you put it on speaker on the counter for me?”

He complies then leans against the open doorway.

“Hi, ...