The New House

I brought my home-made lasagna to their new house. After we finished eating Lacy lit a cigarette and leaned back bluing the air. She put the butt out on the last remaining island of lasagna and covered it with her white napkin, like a dead body.
"Years ago I had to have my jaw broken and rebuilt, while it healed my jaw was wired shut. I had to live on chocolate milkshakes from Friendly's," she said.
"She loved it, but she looked like a skeleton," her husband Rick said, laughing.
Lacy was a twig.
"Now she thinks she's fat!" Rick said.
I was already planning my escape.