Brooke looked him over. Despite how mad she was with him, she had to admit he did look very handsome. He had been lucky enough to receive his father’s genes.
“Did you clean out the filters yet?” Brooke asked.
John dropped the spoon, and it clanged against the edge of the bowl. His mouth was full of cereal when he spoke.
“Mom, you’re serious? I already got dressed,” John said.
“Then you better put on the jumpsuit. Out you go,” Brooke answered.
John slammed his hands against the table. He pushed his chair back, and the legs squeaked across the kitchen tile. He mumbled under his breath on his way outside.
“What was that, young man?” Brooke asked.
Her answer was the slam of the back door.
“Teenagers,” Emily said.