If her cousin hadn’t been the schoolbus driver, Kenton would have been expelled for sure.
Lydia started to speed dial Fred, took a breath, cracked a beer, waited.
Fred would babble some excuse and get in the shower.
Long, crazy long, there’s-no-way-any-hot-water-is-left long.
As defense mechanisms went, it wasn’t the worst, but could be infuriating.
Any issue, from minor: “Kenton got a yellow card in soccer” to major, and the Focus getting totaled on an icy road was as major as it had ever gotten–Fred escaped to the shower.
Sometimes mid sentence.
This one was major.
Lydia wondered why she put up with it as long as she did.
Kenton didn’t go to the store and buy a gun catalog. It was Fred’s gun catalog.
Chuck saw it peeking out of the backpack and took it. She owed him dinner at Clawson Steak House for sure.
She called Fred after half a beer. Held her volume in check, felt it start to rise.
“I didn’t know I had to lock up a magazine about guns,” Fred said.
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