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Equal Access
  • Текст добавлен: 16 октября 2016, 22:00

Текст книги "Equal Access"


Автор книги: A. E. Branson


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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Chapter Nine

I form light and create darkness, I make weal and create woe – I the LORD do all these things.

–Isaiah 45:7

After Dulsie left for work the next morning, Shad lingered at the house a little longer than usual to review some of his books on psychology and abuse. Everything he read confirmed his prognosis about Wally, which meant Shad needed to act if he was going to stop the man’s predations. But he was still stumped on just how to go about that action when the law stood in his way. Shad didn’t miss the irony that he had become an attorney in order to find ways that procured justice when the law was too rigid, and now he was personally in such a dilemma ... again. And although his role the first time had been more passive, it was those events that led him to this career.

Shad was convinced God had a wicked sense of humor.

His plan to linger involved missing most of the morning traffic, so it was actually ten minutes after eight o’clock when Shad stepped through the door of his office into the reception room. Francine looked up from typing at her computer.

“Flat tire or dead starter?” She asked.

Shad realized Francine was referring to the only other two times he had arrived after his coworkers, and he had been late by a much wider margin than this morning.

“Preoccupied driver,” Shad replied.

“I was wondering at what point do I start worrying about you.” Francine regarded him with a slight frown. “You didn’t call, so I was starting to think you had a bad encounter with a deer or a semi.”

“I’m sorry, but I knew I wasn’t gonna be that late.”

“Do you know how much insurance paperwork I’ll have to fill out if you get crunched?”

Shad smiled a little. “It’s nice to know you missed me.”

“I’m not the only one. You’ve already received two calls this morning.” Francine glanced down at her desk.

Shad’s stomach did a couple of rollovers. Did Wally call here wanting to discover what Shad’s plans were?

“Who are they from?” He asked casually as Shad stepped closer to her desk.

Francine picked up a couple of message slips. “One is from a gentleman wanting to discuss lease termination. The other is from Monica Simms.” Francine’s gaze switched to Shad’s face. “She says it’s urgent.”

Shad was relieved it wasn’t Wally, but also disappointed that he was stuck with expecting a call from the man. Since his home and cellular telephone numbers were unlisted, Shad knew Wally would be able to reach him only at the office. He thanked Francine and took the slips into his own work area. Shad set up his laptop computer, turned it on, and dialed Monica’s number on his office telephone.

He knew it was probably too early in the morning for Vic to be there and answer the phone, so Monica was the one who picked up.

“It’s Charissa,” she replied to Shad’s inquiry. “You said, and she said, that you wanted to listen to her whenever she wanted to talk. Well, yesterday after our meeting with the psychologist, when she was going to bed, she said she wanted to tell you something.”

“Do you know exactly what about?”

“It’s the darndest thing. She absolutely refuses to tell me.”

“Will she talk to me on the phone?”

“I’ve already asked her. She said she doesn’t want me to hear, so no, not on the phone.”

As Shad began pulling up his schedule on the computer he tried to analyze Charissa’s change in behavior. Was it a change in strategy?

A definite side effect of being away from the office for a day was the pileup of work which would always greet him upon Shad’s return. He also had a court appearance this afternoon. “I’ve got too much going on today to see her this morning or afternoon. I suppose if I must, I could come out this evening.”

Monica didn’t respond for a couple of seconds. “Lawyers will make house calls?”

“This one does.”

“Well, it’s just that tonight we’d promised Charissa to take her out to the movies.”

“Don’t break your promise.” Shad pulled up his schedule for Friday. He knew there would be spillover from today, which made tomorrow’s itinerary chaotic but doable. His difficulty was determining when to make time for Charissa.

“I should be able to fit you in tomorrow, but I’m probably gonna have to grab the first opportunity that pops up, and I don’t know when that’ll be. I think it would be easiest if I just make that house call when the chance comes up. I’ll give you a call when I can head out.”

“That works for me.”

After he hung up the phone, Shad proceeded to plunge into his work, but the matter about Wally kept infringing on his thoughts, making Shad almost cringe every time the phone rang. He was actually glad for the court appearance that helped Shad to stay focused on matters at hand, but that only lasted for a couple of hours. When he returned to the office the work load didn’t seem any lighter, and it was five-thirty before he was able to start wrapping things up. Then his cell phone rang.

Since the office called him on that line only when he was out of the building, Shad knew it had to be someone in the family calling him. When Shad answered it he was pleased to see that it was Dulsie calling him from their home phone.

“Hiya, toots.” Shad began shutting down his laptop.

“Hi, Hon. Have you left your office yet?”

“Just getting ready to.”

“Perfect. I need you to run by the store and get three avocados.”

Shad’s heart sank slightly because he wasn’t thrilled by the prospect of going into the grocery store. It was a small sacrifice to help Dulsie, however, besides the fact such an action would be beneficial to Shad if he was inclined to eat. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.” Dulsie’s voice took on a tone of sarcasm. “The ones I bought yesterday have too many black spots in them to salvage enough for supper.”

“What are we having tonight?”

“Salmon salad sandwiches by the seashore.”

“Just what I’d expect to hear from somebody named Dulsie Delaney.”

“Hey – you wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.”

Shad smirked. “I’ll try to pick out good avocados.”

“I’d give you some tips on how to do that, but obviously I wouldn’t know what I’m talking about. Just be sure they aren’t bright green and hard.”

“Dark and mushy. Got it.”

Shad locked up the office since he was the last one to leave, and on his way home drove to the supermarket on the edge of town. He knew the store would be filled with the typical afternoon crowd of people swinging in after work, so Shad braced himself to maneuver through the mass of humanity. After selecting three firm but yielding avocados from the produce section, Shad went to stand in line at the express checkout counter. He stood behind a slightly plump woman who looked close to his age and also looked like she might have three or four more items in her cart than express checkout customers were supposed to have. But Shad’s attention was quickly diverted to the little girl he presumed was the woman’s daughter.

She looked like she was probably around four years old and was bouncing behind the cart her mother was standing in front of. Actually the child was bouncing a rubber toy frog back and forth along the handle. Her body moved in sequence with the toy, and her blonde, pageboy haircut bounced in unison as well. She was wearing a summery outfit of a pink cropped blouse, matching ruffled shorts, and flip flop shoes. As her mother pulled the cart forward to start unloading groceries on the conveyor belt, the girl arched her slender body as she made the frog bound over to one side of the impulse items display.

In a series of rapid hops across the gum and candy she approached Shad, who was blocking the end of the aisle. The girl paused for a few seconds and looked up at him before flashing a grin. Shad smiled back.

With what was apparently a simulation of the mighty leap her frog was taking, the girl held it as high above her head as she could reach while swooping toward the other side of the aisle. She was moving in slow motion to increase the dramatic effect, her lithe limbs stretched out and her soft belly drawn taut.

An intrigue Shad hadn’t felt for over seven years pulsed through him.

Horror immediately followed the first sensation but didn’t abate it. No, this couldn’t be happening. His fascination for the girl and her form was inappropriate, but even as Shad told himself that the jolt of attraction asserted itself.

The frog landed safely on the other side and the child looked up at Shad again. His expression probably belied just enough shock for her to interpret as his being impressed by the frog’s athletic ability, and she grinned at him again.

As Shad watched her bounce the frog back toward the cart he momentarily felt as helpless against the force of this physiological response as he had since this affliction first surfaced in junior high school. Then Shad remembered how he learned to fight it in college.

He could see Dulsie as clearly as though this were that fateful, rainy day eight years ago. They were in his apartment shortly after she’d started her freshman year. Dulsie told a joke, but she imitated a little girl as she delivered the punch line. Her impersonation was so good and the subject of the joke was perhaps just titillating enough that Shad actually felt a tremor of attraction toward her.

Shad’s gaze was ripped away from the girl while he stared at the floor. Yes, it was Dulsie’s emulation of a child that had stirred him, but she was eighteen at the time. It was her womanly qualities that he learned to desire and embrace. And as Shad’s attraction for Dulsie grew, his interest in little girls diminished.

“Sir!”

Shad looked up. The woman and her daughter were several feet beyond the register and the cashier was leaning over the counter and beckoning to him. The sight of the girl skipping away caused that intrigue to tremble again.

Shad lowered his gaze, stepped forward, and set the flimsy plastic bag with avocados in front of the cashier. Never looking up, he wordlessly paid for them and left.

Shad’s attention remained downward as he walked across the parking lot toward the pickup. Desire still lingered in his flesh even as his soul was terrified at the prospect of seeing the girl and again experiencing that offensive response. When Shad unlocked the truck door and slipped in behind the steering wheel, he pulled his gaze up only then in order to drive home.

What was happening? Why was this happening again after all these years? More importantly, why had this happened again at all? Shad was supposed to be cured. He had considered himself healed by none other than the Master Physician. For years he had wrestled with this affliction, vacillating between acceptance and abhorrence. When Shad resolved to spurn its influence he utilized both prayer and psychotherapeutic approaches. He hadn’t even thought about this maladjustment for years ... until recently. Since Shad’s discovery of Wally he’d recalled his own instability several times in less than a week. His meeting with Wally yesterday had been extremely emotional in ways Shad hadn’t even anticipated. The recent events must have been sufficient enough a force to uproot his old nemesis.

Uproot? Then that could only mean ... oh, no. Dear God in heaven, no.

That could only mean he was never really cured, but that the paraphilia had merely gone into latency, where it could wait for the right conditions in which to resurface.

No wonder Jill never stopped distrusting him.

Shad felt as though his stomach rolled over to play dead as he realized those few seconds in the store had forever changed the rest of his life. Whether he had to fight this malady again for years or for minutes, even after he subdued it, Shad would always have to live with the knowledge it could return.

This wasn’t fair to him or to Dulsie.

And completely unknown to her, Dulsie still had a crucial role to play. Now she was his wife, not just a memory, and Shad took great comfort in that fact. His grip tightened on the steering wheel as Shad determined to drive this aberration back into the abyss where it belonged. Even under the threat of its eventual return, he preferred to at least have it under submission than running amok.

By the time Shad parked the pickup in their driveway he was over the initial shock of the experience and instead was nursing a determination to drum this malady back into hiding. When he walked near Sadie as she sat under an oak tree in their yard, the dog paused from pulling out shedding hair with her teeth to wag her tail. Shad absently ruffled the huge canine’s ears and realized he could hear music coming from the house.

Dulsie enjoyed all kinds of music, and Shad never knew if she was going to play modern or classical or ethnic or ethereal. As he approached the porch Shad determined he was hearing the lead singer of the old group First Edition belt out how he was just dropping in to see what condition his condition was in. Dulsie usually listened to rock when she was feeling feisty. Good. Shad liked it when she was feisty.

He entered the living room, turned the CD player down a couple of notches, and then met Dulsie in the kitchen. Because of his frame of mind Shad immediately noticed that Dulsie was wearing her usual at-home summertime outfit of a tank top and wispy shorts. Otherwise modest in dress, the scanty raiment Dulsie now wore was something she would don only when Shad was the only other one around.

“Hey.” Dulsie smiled at him and stepped away from the counter where she had been chopping tomatoes to meet Shad halfway across the room. “So how was your day?”

“Busy.” Shad admired the view. Although he understood that many people would have called Dulsie “cute” because of her youthful appearance, she was to Shad the most beautiful woman in the world. More importantly, it was a beauty that came from the inside. The temple of flesh that enshrined her soul was a reflection of the divine mysteries which dwelt within.

“And I thought you napped all day.” Dulsie tilted her head back and placed her hands on his chest as Shad stooped to kiss her. He briefly placed his free hand on the small of her back but was conscientious that the carrying case hanging from his shoulder didn’t accidentally slide down. Shad wanted to press her closely to him but he had taught himself long ago not to rush things.

Dulsie immediately reached for the plastic bag in his other hand when their lips parted. “Let’s see what we got here.”

“Dark and mushy avocados.”

Dulsie smirked as she took the bag and returned to the counter.

Shad immediately followed her, removing the case from his shoulder and hanging it on the back of one of the kitchen chairs at the table as they walked by. “So how was your day?”

“Busy.” Dulsie tossed a glance back at him. “I didn’t get to nap either.”

Her attention returned to the avocados. As Dulsie removed them from the bag and began rinsing them at the sink, Shad studied the supple curves of her exposed limbs. Dulsie moved about gracefully and confidently. Her skin was tanned a light brown from all of Dulsie’s summer activities, but Shad’ interest quickly diverted to the parts of her that didn’t get tanned. He stepped closer to Dulsie when she returned to the cutting board.

It was a technique he had perfected during his courtship of her. Shad stood directly behind Dulsie, very closely to her yet not touching. He placed his hands on the counter edge on either side of her, effectively impeding any escape she might try to attempt. As Shad lowered his head closer to Dulsie’s upswept hair he drew a long, slow inhale that filled his sense of smell with the softly sweet aroma he associated with her, like the scent of a large patch of blooming clover on a warm spring day. And Shad began to detect warmth from her agile body radiating through his shirt to intermingle with the heat from his own skin.

As subtle as he was, Dulsie had known Shad long enough to know exactly what he was up to. “Do I detect a side effect from your handling my avocados?”

The light tone of her voice was pleasing to him, and Shad also appreciated how her words were so often well-seasoned with humor. He lowered his mouth to the same level as Dulsie’s ear.

“I like it when you talk dirty to me.” His own voice was slightly hoarse from the now welcomed sensation that was increasing within him.

“How’s this for dirty: If you don’t clean up your act I’m gonna use you to mop the floor.” Dulsie finished slicing open the avocado. “Ooh, nice. I do have to admit you seem to really know your fruit.”

Shad’s mouth lowered to her shoulder. His lips lightly settled on the base of her neck and the tip of his tongue pressed just enough against her skin for him to experience the subtle saltiness of it. Shad almost had to catch his breath as he contemplated tasting more of her.

“Speaking of fruit –” Dulsie shoved her back into his chest and stomach. She was trying to push him away, but Shad wrapped his arms around her torso and he could feel the roundness of the lower part of her breasts pressed into his right forearm. The pressure of Dulsie’s body arched against him made Shad ache to move his hands under her shirt, but Dulsie was meant to be savored.

“Don’t make me slap your hand,” Dulsie growled.

Shad responded by nibbling on her earlobe.

“This is not the time or place!” Dulsie’s voice betrayed both amusement and annoyance. “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry. Let me finish getting supper ready and satisfy my own appetite first. As for your appetite, you just go rip off your clothes someplace else.”

Shad rested his mouth beside her ear and softly murmured, “Then do I get to rip off your clothes?”

“Sustenance first, debauchery later! Now scat!”

“It’s a deal.” He kissed Dulsie on the jaw and released her.

She turned around and pushed on Shad’s chest to insure he would actually leave. Shad stepped back and for a few seconds watched Dulsie return to her work.

He remembered in his youth that Pap sometimes referred to Shad’s future as “when you have a family of your own,” as though it were a given that he would marry someday. For years Shad doubted such an event would ever occur for him since he just wasn’t interested in adult women. Then his relationship with Dulsie went through a couple of transformations, and she completed his understanding of the concept of “oneness.” As Shad reluctantly turned away and picked up the computer case he offered thanks again for this unanticipated blessing. For someone who once thought he’d never get married, Shad now couldn’t imagine life without Dulsie.



Chapter Ten

There is blunt talk like sword thrusts, but the speech of the wise is healing.

–Proverbs 12:18

Monica Simms lived in the same vicinity just south of Jefferson City as her brother and sister-in-law. Actually Monica’s home was within the town of Wardsville while Eliot lived outside the city limits. If Shad could have simply crossed the Osage River where it bordered Pap’s farm, it would have been possible for him to make it to Monica’s in a matter of minutes. But since the highway north of home that provided a direct link between Linn and Jefferson City also provided the only bridge, albeit over the Missouri River, Shad had to take the “longer” route over that river and then drive on a back road that snaked into town.

Monica’s house was a newer model with a brick foundation and vinyl siding and a small concrete porch, but it seemed to be only a little larger than the place Shad and Dulsie rented. Demetri Simms had been a high school basketball coach so his income was modest, and it was at his insistence that Monica stopped working outside the home shortly after they married. At first that seemed just as well since Monica became pregnant five months after the wedding. But in retrospect she now realized it was part of Demetri’s efforts to keep Monica isolated from family and friends.

When Demetri decided to start seeking employment elsewhere, he didn’t tell Monica until the end of May, after he was already hired at a school in St. Louis for the next academic year. This was the same time Demetri informed her he would take Charissa with him but leave Monica behind so their daughter wouldn’t have to go through the trauma of watching her mother die. Immediately afterward he loaded Charissa into the car with the rest of the belongings Demetri would need over the summer, and drove to the apartment he had arranged to rent in St. Louis.

Monica’s days left living in this home were numbered by how long she could get by before needing hospice care. She agreed with Shad that Charissa should be able to come home to the room she knew, and then gradually the two would move into Eliot’s house. That way Charissa would already be settled into her new home when she became the official dependent of her uncle and aunt.

As Shad walked along the driveway toward the front porch, he couldn’t miss the dark red, late model pickup he had parked his own truck behind. Shad rarely made assumptions, but he presumed it must belong to Vic. The truck, unlike his own, was immaculate and shiny and dent free. Vic worked as phlebotomist in the hospital, so Shad presumed Tess’s brother was one of those people Pap once complained about who would steal into his room at wee hours of the morning and draw blood. When Pap griped about the procedure to Karl, Jill’s husband leaned toward the bed and asked if Pap wanted him to bring a braid of garlic and his old rosary with its crucifix to hang around Pap’s neck.

At least Vic’s night hours freed him up during part of the day to assist Monica. That also allowed Charissa to become better acquainted with the man she had formerly met only a few times at large family gatherings. Shad wanted to remove as much trauma as he could from Charissa’s transition.

Shad left his suit coat in the pickup, and the afternoon heat made him not only roll up his sleeves but also loosen his tie more than usual and undo the top two buttons of the light purple shirt. As Shad strode up the two steps of the shadeless porch it crossed his mind that a century ago, in days without air conditioning, people wore full-length underwear to protect the clothes they wore from their own sweaty and oily bodies. No wonder people had shorter life spans back then.

He rang the doorbell, and only a few seconds passed before none other than Vic opened the door.

“Oh yes, Mr. Delaney.” Vic smiled broadly. “It’s good to see you here.”

“Good afternoon.” Shad nodded. “I hope I haven’t missed out on the opportunity to speak with Charissa.”

“I don’t think so.” Vic stepped aside and motioned into the house. “I asked her about it earlier today and all she would say was you were the only one she could tell.”

“Doesn’t sound like much has changed.” Shad stepped into the carpeted living room and immediately felt a little crowded. There seemed to be plenty of matching furniture in the room accompanied by more accoutrements than he was accustomed to. Tables grouped around the chairs were generally filled with doilies and cloths spread underneath the lamps and knick-knacks. The walls were also bedecked with pictures and photographs, and shelves displayed even more items that probably reflected memories or interests. “Where’s Monica?”

“She went to lie down in the bedroom right after you called.” Vic closed the door. “Her energy level is starting to drop. Usually takes a nap around this time of day or at least has to get some rest.” Vic shook his head. “I’ll go see if she’s fallen asleep or not. She told me if she did to go ahead and send you to Charissa’s room, and she’d talk with you when you’re done and she has more time to wake up.”

Shad nodded. “I’ll wait right here.”

As he watched Vic stroll into a hallway to the right side of the room, Shad felt a tremor of apprehension. After what happened to him yesterday, he only now realized that his discussion with Charissa would probably be conducted in private. Before yesterday evening that event wouldn’t have caused him any concern, but now dread crept upon him as Shad wondered if the old adversary would surface again.

Vic returned in less than half a minute. “She’s asleep. I’ll take you to Charissa.”

“Thank you,” Shad muttered.

He followed Vic down a hallway to the left side of the room. More pictures and shelves adorned the walls. Three doors broke up the pattern of the decorations, and all were ajar. Vic stopped at the last one and softly rapped on the painted trim.

“Charissa? Sweetheart? Mr. Delaney is here to talk to you.”

Shad didn’t hear Charissa’s response but Vic nudged the door wider and stepped into the room. When Shad followed him in he saw the girl curled in a sitting position on the floor at the foot of her twin-sized bed. She wore green jersey shorts and a light green tee shirt with a print of a kitten on the front. Charissa had a picture book opened on her lap, and other books as well as toys were scattered around her on the bed and on the floor. She watched them with a somber expression that didn’t change.

“Hello, Charissa.” Shad smiled although he still felt crowded. Charissa’s room was disheveled as kids’ rooms often were, but the sheer volume of toys and furniture and decorations on the walls seemed to close in on him. It was as though that mild agoraphobia of his was now reacting to objects.

The most toys Shad ever had as a child was when Wally lived with them, and even then he never had this many. After Wally left, all of Shad’s toys were thrown away, or those that could bring money were sold by one of the boyfriends so he could buy more cigarettes. When Shad moved in with the Delaneys he mostly “inherited” the same few classic toys that had been kept around the house for generations.

Charissa looked from him to Vic and back again. “I wondered if you’d really come,” she said in a voice that matched her expression.

Shad almost felt that knife-to-the-heart sensation. “I said I’d be here. And I really do wish we could’ve talked yesterday.”

Charissa stared at him but didn’t answer.

“I’ll let you two get down to business.” Vic shrugged and slipped behind Shad to step out of the room. “Should I close the door?”

“No,” Shad immediately replied as a flash of panic shot through him.

“I don’t want it left open,” Charissa stated bluntly as she continued to gaze at Shad.

“Why not?” His question was genuine.

“I don’t want them to listen.” Charissa looked down at the book in her lap. “Especially not Mom.”

Shad blew out a long exhale and glanced at Vic. “Leave it ajar.”

“You’re the boss.” Vic shrugged and pulled the door until only a crack of light was left between it and the frame.

As Shad’s attention returned to Charissa he fervently hoped the brewing terror inside him would overcome any other physiological response he might have. When the malady had haunted him years ago, an opportunity like this had never presented itself before either naturally or through Shad’s orchestration. Although he didn’t question his ability to control his conduct, Shad also didn’t want to encourage this disorder to continue reestablishing itself.

A few seconds of silence passed before Charissa spoke. “You’re not really fired, are you?”

A twang of guilt added to his discomfort. “Not legally, no.” Shad wasn’t comforted with the thought that the more he practiced law the better he got at dodging around the truth. “I was ... sort of playing a game. I wanted you to feel better. So I let you dismiss me even though ... your mom is the one with the ultimate authority to do that. Legally.”

Charissa looked down at the book again. “I would hear Mom talking with Uncle Eliot and Aunt Tess. They talk about you a lot, about things you’re gonna do.”

Shad wondered if the adults were discussing this openly in front of Charissa or if she was eavesdropping on what they believed was a private conversation. “I’m sorry. I thought it would help you to feel better. I know things are hard for you right now, and I’m just trying to make some of it a little easier.”

Charissa’s gaze returned to his face. “Did you mean it when you said you’re my lawyer?”

Shad didn’t feel right gazing so far down at the child. “I meant it.” He lowered himself to the floor and sat with his legs crisscross. “The reason I’m working for your mom is because I wanna be sure you’re gonna be taken care of.”

“Then you have to stop the divorce.”

Shad wished he was more adept at reading expressions. “Why?”

Charissa looked at the book again. “If you really want to do what’s best for me, you’ll stop the divorce.”

Shad stared at her as Charissa continued to gaze downward. It was natural for children to resist divorce. They didn’t want to see their family, which was their world, torn apart. They didn’t want to feel abandoned by a parent. They didn’t want to feel guilty because they suspected they were the cause of the breakup. Charissa was completely powerless to stop her mom from dying, so why wouldn’t she grasp at one thing where she might be able to exert some control? Why wouldn’t she try to get rid of the attorney who had initiated those proceedings?

Shad’s gut stirred.

There was something he was missing. Shad’s experience had made him sensitive to abuse upon others, but apparently his formal training was unable to identify and name what was prickling at his conscience right now.

“I’ve told you why I believe the divorce is in your best interests.” Shad studied Charissa’s face in the hope he might be able to ascertain something in her expression. “Now you need to tell me why you believe it isn’t.”

Charissa stared at the book on her lap. “People aren’t supposed to get divorced.”

“I agree.” Shad noticed that her statement seemed to settle into his subconscious as though it were another ingredient added to the simmering pot of his limited intuition.

“Then why are you a divorce lawyer?”

Shad’s smirk was entirely involuntary. “I’m not a divorce lawyer. Most of what I do has nothing to do with divorce. And when I do take on a case like that, it’s only when I need to make sure that the kids don’t pay the full price.”

Charissa frowned. “Whaduya mean, full price?”

“Sometimes ... one parent is so mad at the other one, they ... forget that as a parent they’re supposed to put their kids’ needs ahead of their own wants. My goal is to make it less hard on the kids.”


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