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"Ow. Ow. Ow."
"Are you sure you don't need any help?"
There was a thump and a miserable whimper on the other side of the door. Melinda winced, by proxy, but she still couldn't claim that she felt too sympathetic towards her oldest child. He did bring it onto himself.
"Maybe release these? After I get done patching myself up."
Somewhere, probably laughing his head off on the way to Augusta, Scotty was doubtless congratulating himself on a job well done. Here, Melinda was leaning against the door while Andy was inside, trying to gather up ten small lobsters and take care of his own bruises from the ambush... the one wherein all ten of the lobsters were dumped over his head while he was taking a shower earlier.
Melinda thought about asking him if he'd learned his lesson. She had spent a little too much time listening to Andy brag about how he woke Scotty up with a lobster in his face, and while she wasn't going to chastise him -- she figured they'd work it out themselves -- she had mentally sided more with Scotty in that particular case.
She had to admit, Scotty's answer to it was excellent. Wicked, and excellent.
Finally, Andy opened the door, carrying a box of ten agitated little lobsters, still looking kind of disheveled. He looked at his mother, then down at the lobsters, then back at his mother again. Then, his composure cracked and he whined, "Mom, did you have to laugh so hard about it?"
Melinda pressed her mouth into a line, reaching up to order her son's still-messy hair. "Andy, I love you very much."
Andy rolled his eyes a little, mirroring her expression. "But you think I had it coming? Ten lobsters, dropped on me in the shower?"
Melinda tried so hard to stuff it down, but it bubbled up from her throat, and then she was laughing all over again. "Absolutely."
Chapter Notes: The aftermath of Lobster Wars, from Melinda Corrigan's point of view.