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Show Hannah Mae and the Mona Lisa 16 Mom called me in to help with dinner. She was standing in Levis at the stove, her short hair tucked behind her ears. I asked why Colby didn't ever help fix dinner and she shook her head like I was dumber than a turnip. "Colby helps out on the farm," she said. "So do I," I protested. Mom stopped her frying right there and looked me cold in the eyes. "Hannah, when you're married, you can run your house any way you please, but I get to run things my way in my own house. Cut up the potatoes." I cut up the potatoes, but I figure, Lhit a raw nerve. Colby and his dad, Gus, eat at our table every evening. That's because Colby's mom ran off when he was only two weeks old. I don't know why. I don't know a thing about the woman other than what Mom let slip one time after Colby lost his dog. Colby |