Scarred
“My dad frowned at me as I walked in the door. “Didn’t I tell you that I wanted to talk to you this afternoon?”
“Yes, sir.”
“So why weren’t you here when I got home?”
“I wanted to get some food, sir.”
“Won’t your mother cook for you?” My dad looked at me with disdain. “I don’t think you should be going out and wasting money while you have a mother here who is perfectly happy to cook for you.”
“Yes, sir.” I wanted to throttle his neck and ask him why he didn’t stick around for dinner. I wanted to tell him that my mother needed a husband who was around for her, who cared about her more than he cared about being Mayor.
“Well, come in the study with me, so we can chat before I have to go out.”
“Go out?” I looked at him in surprise. “Aren’t you done with work for the day?”
“No.”
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