A magnificent peach was hanging against an adjoining wall, ripened by the same artificial heat. Mercedes drew near, and plucked the fruit. "Take this ...each, then," she said. The count again refused. "What, again?" she exclaimed, in so plaintive an accent that it seemed to stifle a sob; "really, you pain me."A long silence followed; the peach, like the grapes, fell to the ground. "Count," added Mercedes with a supplicating glance, "there is a beautiful Arabian custom, which makes eternal friends. “Yup. Mom and Dad are doing their date night thing. Pizza’s on the table already.” I rolled my eyes a little and got up. “Meat lovers, just like I love.” She continued, and unable to help myself I shot back,“That’s right sis. You love the meat.” She stared at me, a little mortified I’d said that, then we both burst out laughing. “Be down in 5, or I’m not saving you any.” She called, bouncing out of my room again. I laughed and followed after her, catching a glimpse of my parents leaving, both. More

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