She made her rounds through the mansion, greeting her countless aunts and uncles with a smile that could light up the room.
Then, with her arms folded, she strutted over to Madge, "Well, no offense, but this place is a mess! You ever think of tidying up a bit?"
Madge had tried, but somehow, within half an hour, it would look even worse than before.
Abbey couldn't help herself, "Anyone would think you folks invented laziness, look at this floor, mud all over! And what's that pile on the table? Smells like a dumpster dive."
"Good heavens, this towel's turned black! What's it for, scrubbing the grill?"
Martha snatched it away, "Why are you fussing over my face cloth?"
Abbey was speechless.
"Anyway, tomorrow's Mom's big 80th birthday bash, and sure, we can overlook a bit of mess among family, but what if the neighbors see? Talk about a disgrace. Maybe put in a little effort, dear?"
With a disdainful turn of her head, she acted as though she couldn't bear to look.
Madge's face turned sour.
Irving gave Abbey's sleeve a pull, signaling her to tone it down a bit.
Abbey shrugged him off irritably. Why should she stop? She hadn't even started!
Madge gave a wry smile, "A bit of chaos with a crowd this size is inevitable. You should actually thank us; otherwise, your place would be the disaster zone."
Abbey choked on her retort.
Madge, ever the diplomat: "Since you're benefiting from the situation, maybe keep a low profile. Don't bite the hand that feeds you."
"You—"
"If you're so bored, why not help me clean up a bit? You were the one worried about bringing shame on the Cole family."
With that, she went for the broom.
Abbey looked as if she'd seen a ghost, "I just remembered, I have something urgent to do. Bye!"
She and Irving couldn't get out fast enough.
...
Thankfully, the next day was the birthday party.
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