Winston blinked hard to focus on his mother. The voice was hers but she looked younger than her remembered. He shook his head, trying to clear some of the fuzz away. “Ma?”
“I’m not your mother. I wish I was. Maybe I’d be banging some sense into that thick skull of yours if I was. I can’t believe you’re drinking again.” She thumped her hand down on the table.
He winced at the crash “Lattie,” he said. “I haven’t. I don’t know how this happened.”
“There’s another explanation to why you’re crawling through the back door in your underwear at two-thirty in the morning?” Lattie folded her arms across her ample bosom, exactly like their mother did when she was alive. “You’re drunk as a lord,” she said. “You’ve drunk yourself shiftless.”
“Shitless?” Winston concentrated. “I hope so else I need the bathroom quick.”
“No. Shiftless. Sam phoned me. You’ve lost your job at Twilight. He tried to defend you but it was Personnel’s decision.”
“But…” Winston heaved himself into a chair as his sister retreated upstairs. “Sam’s head of personnel.”