The Rotel tomatoes she'll dump in with the canned okra. There's the Bacos for the cornbread. And the ham. We been eatin' like this for years. We huddle up then knock.
Gramma opens the door.
I see her see me, but she don't say nothing. So I don't either. We go inside and all I can think about how funky it smells. It started stinkin' a couple weeks ago. It got so bad, we sent Chuckie under the house.