Annette:And now he's craving some Texas-style fried chicken.
Brooke:It's not about the chicken, but it also is about the chicken. Right now, he wants that memory and the safety and familiarity that comes with it, but he can't access it without the chicken. For the past few days, he's been somewhere between aggressively angry and ugly cry sad at all times.
Annette:Oh, honey. I'm so sorry. You should've reached out earlier. I can help with things like chicken and whatever else. You have enough on your hands. Ask for some damn help, woman.
Brooke:I never know when these things will spin out of control. Sometimes they're quick blips.
Annette:I love you and I know you're trying your ass off, but it sounds like it spun out of control several days ago. Give me the context so I can help you fix this.
Brooke:As the story goes—and I can't believe I'm saying this—he and a bunch of other National Guardsmen brought a chicken to a shop where they fried it for them.
Annette:You mean a package of chicken from a butcher.
Brooke:That isn't the way the story was told to me, no.
Annette:They brought a live chicken to a fry shop?
Brooke:Maybe that's how it goes in Texas. Maine has general stores where you can buy ammo and wedding dresses.
Annette:Forgive me for being obvious, but have you tried any of the fast food chicken options?
Brooke:There are grease stains on the wall in the dining room and bits of chicken stuck in the chandelier. One of the home health aides is on personal leave because Dad stabbed her with a drumstick. My hair smells like fried chicken and I'm afraid I'll never wash that scent out.
Brooke:We've tried everything.
Annette:Then…we need to find a live chicken fry shop?
Brooke:I have looked, but as you know, certain parts of this region don't maintain much internet presence.
Annette:You need someone who knows how to fry chicken in volume and saves the oil.
Brooke:What does that mean, saves the oil?
Annette:It's a flavor thing. Trust me. I'll ask around.
Annette:I'll also see if anyone has a hen they want to sell.
Brooke:What does a hen cost? I'm sure I have the cash on hand, but I'm wondering what the going rate is for live chickens.
Annette:Let's work on finding a chicken and a fryer first, okay? Then we'll get into the economics.
Brooke:Good plan. Thank you.
Annette:You're welcome and stop letting it get this bad before asking for help.
Brooke:I'm trying.
Annette:Try harder.
* * *
Annette:Jackson and I are going to that pub in Northport tonight, the one with the Trivia Tuesday. Are you in?
Brooke:Ugh, no. I can't.
Annette:What's going on?
Brooke:I'm just swamped. I'm sorry. I know how Jackson loves it when I tell him he's wrong about everything.
