Lydia's jaw set. She stood up, smoothing her hair from its frizz into the sleek beautiful hair it was before we had begun the fight. This wasn't good.
"I am moving back into Mother's place. You have done this . . . this . . . foolish dreams for to long! You always say it will do something wonderful!"
I open my mouth but she casually picked up a lamp with her (most often) dainty hand and threatened to throw it.
"No more! No more, you hear me! My father was right! And he died without seeing me marry a true man!"
Well, now, that surely did not come out right. I square my shoulders.
"What? What did you say?!" And a lamp went sailing towards my head.
I ducked just in time. When I resurfaced there she was, slamming the front door.