It merely bored me. I raised my hands slowly. I did not reach for the dirty plates. Instead, I gripped the cuff of the thick yellow rubber glove encasing my right hand. With a smooth, deliberate motion, I peeled the wet rubber away from my skin. It made a sharp snapping sound as I dropped it onto the metal counter.
I did the same with the left glove, letting it fall beside the first. Brenda frowned her triumphant smirk, faltering slightly at my calm defiance. I told you to wash those dishes, she snapped. I wiped my bare, damp hands on the front of the stained catering apron. I looked at the dark soapy water where my device had sunk to its watery grave.
Then I lifted my gaze and locked eyes with my mother. ‘You have fundamentally misunderstood the situation,’ I said, my voice resonating with the chilling authoritative cadence I used to silence hostile defense attorneys. I took a single step forward, forcing Brenda to instinctively step back. The phone you just threw into that sink was not a personal device.
