Gladys looked up first.
Her expression was almost amused.
“I’m taking care of my son.”
I frowned.
“By rubbing his feet?”
“They’ve always bothered him after a long day.”
I looked at Eli.
He finally glanced away from the television.
“It’s no big deal.”
“No big deal?”
I laughed once.
It came out sharper than I’d intended.
“I’ve been on my feet since sunrise cooking for everyone in this room.”
He rubbed the back of his neck.
“I know.”
“And somehow your feet are the emergency?”
A few relatives shifted awkwardly.
One of his sisters quietly looked down at her drink.
Gladys continued kneading Eli’s foot as though I wasn’t standing there.
“I don’t see why you’re making such a fuss.”
I stared at her.
“You’re massaging my husband’s feet in my living room.”
