From Kurt:

                “This is ridiculous,” I said. I had been complaining all day. “Who are we, the Waltons?”

                She was drawing her face in makeup in the mirror above the bathroom sink, and she stopped. She looked at me through her reflection, the distance between us doubled by the depth of the mirror. “I don’t get the reference,” she said evenly. “Were they always going to neighborhood cookouts on The Waltons?” Read more