C.A. Haddad's Blog, page 3
October 19, 2022
Eden has a Date
When she looked in the mirror, and being very honest with herself, Eden saw a particularly attractive woman with an available personality. In that—she was available. But where were the men of DC? Men who made a decent living and were available for her emotional needs? Not to mention financial.
She thought changing from the National Portrait Gallery to the Renwick Gallery would give her more White House opportunities. At least she’d be closer to bump into someone. And besides she liked the Renwick better. Her work on special exhibits at least made some use of her intelligence. But her salary? Who can live in DC on $35,560 a year! She knew it was old-fashioned, but she wanted some man to sweep her away, financially.
Oh, there were men. Her age. Let the swiping begin. But when she had a date, she found all she did was listen to how important the men were, what their out-sized hopes for the future were and who they knew and could name-drop. Then came the suggestion that they split the tab. Did they think she could afford to split the tab at these restaurants? No. That was the whole point at going on a date. Good food, no cooking. Ego-obsessed bastards.
There were the older men, married, in town connected to their mutual work. Now, they would listen intently to what she had to say, then pick up the tab. But they wanted something in return. For a dinner? Dream on, old saggy butts.
If only Dad were still alive. Why hadn’t he set up a trust fund for her, before he married Heidi? Why couldn’t Mom spare the $2000-a-month allowance? Everyone else got parental support. What were parents for?
She still had her dreams. Or, as Frank called them, fantasies. What if Heidi meant to kill Daddy and it hasn’t been proved yet. Then at least Eden could claim his personal property. Those cars had to be worth something. The condo? It could be sold.
Maybe she should become a high-priced call girl. Work the conventions. But sex could be so—icky. Flab for her was such a turn off. Like, Rubens? What was wrong with him?
She decided to give her brother a call, to see if there had been any developments. At least this time his cell phone wasn’t turned off. He tended to do that when he claimed to be meeting with a client. Like, really?
“Mom really appreciated the text for her birthday,” Frank commented, before Eden even had a chance to broach the subject of money.
“It was nothing,” Eden waved that away.
“Yeah, that’s exactly the point. It was nothing. You couldn’t have called, at least?”
“And what did Riley do, huh?”
“Riley sent flowers.”
“Anyone can send flowers. Flowers die. Texts last forever. I put a heart emoji with it.”
“Touching.”
“So what did you do, Mr. I’m-Such-A-Wonderful-Son?”
“I drove over from Hartford and took Mom to Jackson’s Steak House. She was delighted.”
“So who paid?”
“Come on, Eden. Of course I paid.”
“Big lawyer, big bucks.”
“No one asked you to major in art history. Speaking of which, I ran into a friend of yours while in Scarsdale. Lily Stanton?”
“Her father—! And Lily? The way she screwed me in high school?”
“How many years ago was that? She’s suffering, Eden. A little compassion wouldn’t hurt.”
“I have compassion. For myself. Her father screwed us out of twenty thousand. And Dad’s lawyer, the one who’s executor of the estate and also handled the divorce, a total shit.”
“Let’s just say he’s very adversarial.”
“I think I just said that. Frank, I’m so unhappy here. Seriously. I know you think I’m a whiny little bitch, but I’m in such pain. I like what I’m doing professionally, but it’s going to lead nowhere except to a mid-level salary. The men in DC. They make love only to themselves. You’re my brother. My older brother. What should I do?”
He gave that some thought. “Look, if you love what you do, that’s half the battle. The money, I don’t know. The only thing I can suggest is retraining for something higher paying. As far as living in DC, you were all excited at the time. If the bloom is off the rose— Move.”
No help. But then when had Frank ever been a help? Riley was a total snot. She couldn’t turn to her for anything. She was all alone in this world. Except for the pointless date she had tonight with someone called Steve Applebaum. What a name. You’d think he could come up with something better.
Mama Bear—Eden has a Date
When she looked in the mirror, and being very honest with herself, Eden saw a particularly attractive woman with an available personality. In that—she was available. But where were the men of DC? Men who made a decent living and were available for her emotional needs? Not to mention financial.
She thought changing from the National Portrait Gallery to the Renwick Gallery would give her more White House opportunities. At least she’d be closer to bump into someone. And besides she liked the Renwick better. Her work on special exhibits at least made some use of her intelligence. But her salary? Who can live in DC on $35,560 a year! She knew it was old-fashioned, but she wanted some man to sweep her away, financially.
Oh, there were men. Her age. Let the swiping begin. But when she had a date, she found all she did was listen to how important the men were, what their out-sized hopes for the future were and who they knew and could name-drop. Then came the suggestion that they split the tab. Did they think she could afford to split the tab at these restaurants? No. That was the whole point at going on a date. Good food, no cooking. Ego-obsessed bastards.
There were the older men, married, in town connected to their mutual work. Now, they would listen intently to what she had to say, then pick up the tab. But they wanted something in return. For a dinner? Dream on, old saggy butts.
If only Dad were still alive. Why hadn’t he set up a trust fund for her, before he married Heidi? Why couldn’t Mom spare the $2000-a-month allowance? Everyone else got parental support. What were parents for?
She still had her dreams. Or, as Frank called them, fantasies. What if Heidi meant to kill Daddy and it hasn’t been proved yet. Then at least Eden could claim his personal property. Those cars had to be worth something. The condo? It could be sold.
Maybe she should become a high-priced call girl. Work the conventions. But sex could be so—icky. Flab for her was such a turn off. Like, Rubens? What was wrong with him?
She decided to give her brother a call, to see if there had been any developments. At least this time his cell phone wasn’t turned off. He tended to do that when he claimed to be meeting with a client. Like, really?
“Mom really appreciated the text for her birthday,” Frank commented, before Eden even had a chance to broach the subject of money.
“It was nothing,” Eden waved that away.
“Yeah, that’s exactly the point. It was nothing. You couldn’t have called, at least?”
“And what did Riley do, huh?”
“Riley sent flowers.”
“Anyone can send flowers. Flowers die. Texts last forever. I put a heart emoji with it.”
“Touching.”
“So what did you do, Mr. I’m-Such-A-Wonderful-Son?”
“I drove over from Hartford and took Mom to Jackson’s Steak House. She was delighted.”
“So who paid?”
“Come on, Eden. Of course I paid.”
“Big lawyer, big bucks.”
“No one asked you to major in art history. Speaking of which, I ran into a friend of yours while in Scarsdale. Lily Stanton?”
“Her father—! And Lily? The way she screwed me in high school?”
“How many years ago was that? She’s suffering, Eden. A little compassion wouldn’t hurt.”
“I have compassion. For myself. Her father screwed us out of twenty thousand. And Dad’s lawyer, the one who’s executor of the estate and also handled the divorce, a total shit.”
“Let’s just say he’s very adversarial.”
“I think I just said that. Frank, I’m so unhappy here. Seriously. I know you think I’m a whiny little bitch, but I’m in such pain. I like what I’m doing professionally, but it’s going to lead nowhere except to a mid-level salary. The men in DC. They make love only to themselves. You’re my brother. My older brother. What should I do?”
He gave that some thought. “Look, if you love what you do, that’s half the battle. The money, I don’t know. The only thing I can suggest is retraining for something higher paying. As far as living in DC, you were all excited at the time. If the bloom is off the rose— Move.”
No help. But then when had Frank ever been a help? Riley was a total snot. She couldn’t turn to her for anything. She was all alone in this world. Except for the pointless date she had tonight with someone called Steve Applebaum. What a name. You’d think he could come up with something better.
October 13, 2022
Frank and Lily
Burgers ‘n Burst was in the same strip mall as Trader Joe’s. It was either that or Shanghai House of Dumplings. Lily felt the need for a milkshake, so they ended up in a booth at Burgers, that’s after ordering at the counter, then grabbing plenty of napkins and cups of ketchup. “I have to warn you, I’m a very messy burger eater,” Lily said, as she slid into her side of the booth.
“You mean you don’t eat it with a knife and fork?”
She looked to see if he were joking, and he was. “Only when it gets to the end, when the bun has deteriorated and my hands are soaked in ketchup.”
He got up then. She thought maybe she had said something totally disgusting. But no, he brought back the insubstantial plastic knives and forks available.
Frank was much better looking than she remembered. But then her glimpses of him were mainly fleeting, as Eden and she always went up to Eden’s bedroom to gossip and snapchat with friends out of anyone’s, meaning, parents’, hearing. That’s when Eden and she had been friends and spent so much time in one another’s houses. Frank was blond like Eden, although more dirty blond, where Eden always had highlights put in her hair. He wasn’t exactly tall but he wasn’t short either and he looked fit. If police asked her for a description, she would have said average. But there was a light coming from his eyes and a sort of smile on his face that made him look involved.
They didn’t have much to say to one another before their trays arrived. Hers was a burger with a side salad—except. “I’m sorry. Ordered a salad and you brought me fries,” she told the young man who delivered the food.
“Are you sure?” he wondered.
She picked up the packet of salad dressing and held it out to him. “I’ll go check,” he said. He was back in a minute, informing her he could get her a salad, but it would be a dollar extra. She just waved him away.
Frank just laughed. “My life and the way it goes,” she said grimly.
“But there’s always a silver lining. You ended up with a packet of salad dressing for free.”
Lily made an effort with her strawberry shake while he dug into his burger. She needed to add more ketchup to hers. Before taking a bite, she admitted to him that, “I was always fascinated with you when—well, when Eden and I were friends. We were in grade school, you were in high school. We were in high school, you were in college. I thought—wow.”
“That’s— I will admit I never gave much thought to Eden and her friends. Except I assumed they were all pests because Eden was a pest.”
“How is Eden? I know we’re no longer friends; but now that I’m older, I think fondly of the times we had together. And I’m sorry I ruined it all over a boy, who really wasn’t worth either our time. I know she went to Bryn Mawr for college, but I haven’t heard much about her since.”
“She’s at the Smithsonian in DC. She was an art history major.”
“Is she married?”
“No.”
“No one gets married anymore. Not until they reach their thirties anyway.”
“And what do you do?” Frank asked politely.
“Ugh. Medical records. Hate it. But I came out of college with a major in comparative literature. What could I do with that, as enjoyable as it had been. So I took this quick course on billing and coding, got a job right away, the money’s not bad, especially as I lived at home during the pandemic. But now, god, I’d like to get out. But, my mom—she doesn’t want to deal with the situation alone. Things are pretty damn tense at home. Except for some reason Dad walks around on a high, as if everything is going to be okay, now that he’s been caught. Maybe because it gets him out from under the thumb of the Russians? I don’t know.”
Frank shook his head. “What the hell happened? How did you father—you know—become involved in something so—illegal?”
Lily paused—and wondered. Was the meeting with Frank Franklin in Trader Joe’s really accidental? Was he stalking her? His father had a lot invested. Did he?
“I’m sorry,” Frank said. “I’m sure you’re living in a bowl of hell right now. I wasn’t here when my father died, strapped to a bedpost, but my mother said the reaction from those who knew our family was rather—intense.”
Lily laughed. Then she tried to cover it over by pretending she was coughing. But Frank also smiled. “At least my parents were divorced by then. But still—what a way to go.”
“I remember because my mother and her friends were, well, chortling over it, while pretending to be shocked. I think in a way they felt he got what he deserved. Oh, god, that’s an awful thing to say to you. But, you know, they were all sort of threatened by Heidi, or the idea of a Heidi coming into their lives and throwing a wrench into it. Said wrench being divorce. I guess, looking at it from their perspective, it would be frightening. Not many of my mother’s friends, now ex-friends, have a career. I think they’re like my mother, tutoring between tennis lessons. The shock of life not going on as one expects, well—I guess some women can handle it. Not my Mom, so far,” she finished rather bitterly. “But to answer your question about what happened, chez Stantons, it turns out that my father involved himself in online gambling, got into mountains of debt, and it caught up with him, via Russian gangsters. He is a stupid man who’s ruined his life, my mother’s life, my life. I would run away and hide if my mother didn’t beg me to stay. But, well, that’s why I wear a hoodie.” She put her burger down. “Can we talk about something other than our parents. Please!”
“Of course. I’m sorry. Let’s restart. Lily, it’s great to see you after so many years. You’ve become a fine young lady.”
She laughed. “Frank Franklin, or may I call you FF, what have you been doing with yourself so far away from home?”
“Hartford, actually, geographically next door, and I’m a lawyer. Dealing in commercial real estate.”
“Oh, god. Like hamsters, we’re back on the treadmill.”
Mama Bear—Frank and Lily
Burgers ‘n Burst was in the same strip mall as Trader Joe’s. It was either that or Shanghai House of Dumplings. Lily felt the need for a milkshake, so they ended up in a booth at Burgers, that’s after ordering at the counter, then grabbing plenty of napkins and cups of ketchup. “I have to warn you, I’m a very messy burger eater,” Lily said, as she slid into her side of the booth.
“You mean you don’t eat it with a knife and fork?”
She looked to see if he were joking, and he was. “Only when it gets to the end, when the bun has deteriorated and my hands are soaked in ketchup.”
He got up then. She thought maybe she had said something totally disgusting. But no, he brought back the insubstantial plastic knives and forks available.
Frank was much better looking than she remembered. But then her glimpses of him were mainly fleeting, as Eden and she always went up to Eden’s bedroom to gossip and snapchat with friends out of anyone’s, meaning, parents’, hearing. That’s when Eden and she had been friends and spent so much time in one another’s houses. Frank was blond like Eden, although more dirty blond, where Eden always had highlights put in her hair. He wasn’t exactly tall but he wasn’t short either and he looked fit. If police asked her for a description, she would have said average. But there was a light coming from his eyes and a sort of smile on his face that made him look involved.
They didn’t have much to say to one another before their trays arrived. Hers was a burger with a side salad—except. “I’m sorry. Ordered a salad and you brought me fries,” she told the young man who delivered the food.
“Are you sure?” he wondered.
She picked up the packet of salad dressing and held it out to him. “I’ll go check,” he said. He was back in a minute, informing her he could get her a salad, but it would be a dollar extra. She just waved him away.
Frank just laughed. “My life and the way it goes,” she said grimly.
“But there’s always a silver lining. You ended up with a packet of salad dressing for free.”
Lily made an effort with her strawberry shake while he dug into his burger. She needed to add more ketchup to hers. Before taking a bite, she admitted to him that, “I was always fascinated with you when—well, when Eden and I were friends. We were in grade school, you were in high school. We were in high school, you were in college. I thought—wow.”
“That’s— I will admit I never gave much thought to Eden and her friends. Except I assumed they were all pests because Eden was a pest.”
“How is Eden? I know we’re no longer friends; but now that I’m older, I think fondly of the times we had together. And I’m sorry I ruined it all over a boy, who really wasn’t worth either our time. I know she went to Bryn Mawr for college, but I haven’t heard much about her since.”
“She’s at the Smithsonian in DC. She was an art history major.”
“Is she married?”
“No.”
“No one gets married anymore. Not until they reach their thirties anyway.”
“And what do you do?” Frank asked politely.
“Ugh. Medical records. Hate it. But I came out of college with a major in comparative literature. What could I do with that, as enjoyable as it had been. So I took this quick course on billing and coding, got a job right away, the money’s not bad, especially as I lived at home during the pandemic. But now, god, I’d like to get out. But, my mom—she doesn’t want to deal with the situation alone. Things are pretty damn tense at home. Except for some reason Dad walks around on a high, as if everything is going to be okay, now that he’s been caught. Maybe because it gets him out from under the thumb of the Russians? I don’t know.”
Frank shook his head. “What the hell happened? How did you father—you know—become involved in something so—illegal?”
Lily paused—and wondered. Was the meeting with Frank Franklin in Trader Joe’s really accidental? Was he stalking her? His father had a lot invested. Did he?
“I’m sorry,” Frank said. “I’m sure you’re living in a bowl of hell right now. I wasn’t here when my father died, strapped to a bedpost, but my mother said the reaction from those who knew our family was rather—intense.”
Lily laughed. Then she tried to cover it over by pretending she was coughing. But Frank also smiled. “At least my parents were divorced by then. But still—what a way to go.”
“I remember because my mother and her friends were, well, chortling over it, while pretending to be shocked. I think in a way they felt he got what he deserved. Oh, god, that’s an awful thing to say to you. But, you know, they were all sort of threatened by Heidi, or the idea of a Heidi coming into their lives and throwing a wrench into it. Said wrench being divorce. I guess, looking at it from their perspective, it would be frightening. Not many of my mother’s friends, now ex-friends, have a career. I think they’re like my mother, tutoring between tennis lessons. The shock of life not going on as one expects, well—I guess some women can handle it. Not my Mom, so far,” she finished rather bitterly. “But to answer your question about what happened, chez Stantons, it turns out that my father involved himself in online gambling, got into mountains of debt, and it caught up with him, via Russian gangsters. He is a stupid man who’s ruined his life, my mother’s life, my life. I would run away and hide if my mother didn’t beg me to stay. But, well, that’s why I wear a hoodie.” She put her burger down. “Can we talk about something other than our parents. Please!”
“Of course. I’m sorry. Let’s restart. Lily, it’s great to see you after so many years. You’ve become a fine young lady.”
She laughed. “Frank Franklin, or may I call you FF, what have you been doing with yourself so far away from home?”
“Hartford, actually, geographically next door, and I’m a lawyer. Dealing in commercial real estate.”
“Oh, god. Like hamsters, we’re back on the treadmill.”
October 11, 2022
Lily Stanton
Regrets, she had a few. The first coming to live with her parents during the pandemic because she could work remotely as a medical billing and coding specialist, a job she had to admit she loathed. All she was doing was ruining people’s lives, even if they had insurance. Occasionally, she would recode things to make a procedure or a doctor’s visit cheaper. However, if she were caught, her job would be gone and would she be prosecuted?
She laughed at those simple fears. Now. But she hadn’t when Federal agents showed up at their Tuscan orange door in a quiet street away from traffic but near enough to walk to the train. She had been found out. Ruin awaited. But instead— Puzzled, she called up the stairs. “Dad?”
And that was the end, wasn’t it? She had to move out of Scarsdale and fast because she couldn’t hold her head up, she was so embarrassed, so humiliated. How could her father—
Dad was an addict. An online gambler. Who knew? He was an old man, for goodness sakes. How did he ever know how to get online to gamble? And why why why! He was in debt up to his patootie. They were going to lose everything. Her poor mother. The Feds were trying to get Mom for conspiracy, claiming she had primed the pump, getting her friends to invest. But what did Mom know? Really? Hadn’t she just believed Dad when he told her he had a sure thing? Of course, she wanted to let her friends in on it.
How did those Russians gangsters get to him anyway, make him do their bidding? Now he couldn’t even cooperate with the government because his lawyer, a friend from the country club, where they were no longer welcomed, told him not to say a word until they could get the best deal possible. Dad told his wife and Lily it might mean prison time, but he would feel better, getting it off his chest; and maybe prison would break him of his gambling habit. Yea, let’s look on the bright side, Dad.
Her brother Sloan was well away from it all out in sunny California, cocooned in a university, getting his Ph.D. in bioengineering. No one out there would ever connect Sloan Stanton with Will Stanton, master fraudster. But what was she to do? The Stantons had always been a fixture in Scarsdale. Well, at least in some parts of it, the better parts.
She needed to get out of Scarsdale, out of the state, away from anyone who might recognize her. And so many did. After all, she had been senior prom queen in high school, along with being a cheerleader and singing in the chorus. For college she had just gone up the river a bit to Vassar, so she had that circle of friends around here too. She couldn’t disappear, fade into nothingness.
Because she lived at home after college, while she took her billing and coding course—after all, what could one do with a degree in comparative literature—she had now saved enough money to live elsewhere. The problem was her mother. Her mother begged Lily not to desert them now. And how could she when her mother was in such a pitiful situation? So Lily was left, going around town with a scarlet A. Well, no, A is for adultery. So she guess an F for fraud? C for criminal class? T for tanked, as that’s what her life was doing.
Her mother had taken to drinking wine from Trader Joe’s instead of from Winder’s Winery. So was Lily going to be dealing with an alcoholic along with a gambling addict? She should try to interest her mother in marijuana. It would mellow her out. But her mother was under the impression that marijuana was still illegal. Like, that mattered in their household anymore? But oh no, here Lily was, on her way to Trader Joe’s again. Using her own credit card because all her parents’ joint cards and bank accounts were frozen.
On her ventures out, Lily took to wearing a hoodie. She figured, if no one could spot her auburn locks, she was less likely to be recognized. Grabbing a shopping cart, she wanted to pick up a few vegetables and some samosas before she hit the wine aisle. It was while she was examining the frozen food that someone said, “Lily?”
Busted! Damn it!
Lily looked up. At first she didn’t recognize him. But then, how could she forget him? It was Frank Franklin, Eden’s older brother. He was five years older than she, so she hadn’t really had much to do with him, socially, but she always thought of him as handsome and desirable, the way girls saw their best friend’s brothers. Well, ex-best friend after the football fiasco. The guy wasn’t even worth the loss of her friendship with Eden. He was way too impressed with himself. For a reason Lily could never fathom.
“Frank?” She said tentatively.
“Hi.”
Jesus, he was smiling at her. Didn’t he know?
“How are you doing? Are you surviving?”
Okay. He did know. Deflated, she tried to just push her cart past him.
“Hey,” he said, “you don’t want a ticket for dangerous driving.”
“No,” she retorted. “I have enough on my plate with the law right now.”
Puzzled, he wondered, “Were you involved in the fraud?”
“Of course not,” she snapped. “It doesn’t matter. The Stanton name is now shit.” Oh great, a woman with a baby in her cart was looking at Lily indignantly. “What are you doing here anyway?” she asked Frank rudely—in a much lower voice.
“Visiting my mother. She lives in one of the new apartments on Baker Street. Hey, look, Lily, we both have scandals in our families. There’s no reason to be angry at each other. Which by the way, I am not.”
“Then I suppose your father didn’t have anything invested in Allgate Reality.”
“Oh, hell, yes, he did. It was the major part of his portfolio. But, except for small bequests to his children it was all going to go to his widow.” He smiled and shrugged. “No harm, no foul.”
Loosening her grip on the shopping cart, Lily said, “Well, I’m glad for that. I mean that it doesn’t hurt you or—Eden.”
“Oh, Eden’s pissed as hell because chances are she won’t get the twenty thousand Dad left her. But then—weren’t you two on the outs anyway?”
Lily shrugged. “Stupid high school stuff. Regrets. I have a lot. Well, I—“ She made to push past him again.
“Do you want to have lunch? My mother’s working and I’m on my own until her birthday dinner. Or—“
What was she to say? That she had to make the wine run for her mother? Screw that. Lunch with someone that didn’t hate her sounded like a plan. She left Trader Joe’s without hitting the wine aisle. Her mother could always resort to Dad’s Glendronach.
Mama Bear—Lily Stanton
Regrets, she had a few. The first coming to live with her parents during the pandemic because she could work remotely as a medical billing and coding specialist, a job she had to admit she loathed. All she was doing was ruining people’s lives, even if they had insurance. Occasionally, she would recode things to make a procedure or a doctor’s visit cheaper. However, if she were caught, her job would be gone and would she be prosecuted?
She laughed at those simple fears. Now. But she hadn’t when Federal agents showed up at their Tuscan orange door in a quiet street away from traffic but near enough to walk to the train. She had been found out. Ruin awaited. But instead— Puzzled, she called up the stairs. “Dad?”
And that was the end, wasn’t it? She had to move out of Scarsdale and fast because she couldn’t hold her head up, she was so embarrassed, so humiliated. How could her father—
Dad was an addict. An online gambler. Who knew? He was an old man, for goodness sakes. How did he ever know how to get online to gamble? And why why why! He was in debt up to his patootie. They were going to lose everything. Her poor mother. The Feds were trying to get Mom for conspiracy, claiming she had primed the pump, getting her friends to invest. But what did Mom know? Really? Hadn’t she just believed Dad when he told her he had a sure thing? Of course, she wanted to let her friends in on it.
How did those Russians gangsters get to him anyway, make him do their bidding? Now he couldn’t even cooperate with the government because his lawyer, a friend from the country club, where they were no longer welcomed, told him not to say a word until they could get the best deal possible. Dad told his wife and Lily it might mean prison time, but he would feel better, getting it off his chest; and maybe prison would break him of his gambling habit. Yea, let’s look on the bright side, Dad.
Her brother Sloan was well away from it all out in sunny California, cocooned in a university, getting his Ph.D. in bioengineering. No one out there would ever connect Sloan Stanton with Will Stanton, master fraudster. But what was she to do? The Stantons had always been a fixture in Scarsdale. Well, at least in some parts of it, the better parts.
She needed to get out of Scarsdale, out of the state, away from anyone who might recognize her. And so many did. After all, she had been senior prom queen in high school, along with being a cheerleader and singing in the chorus. For college she had just gone up the river a bit to Vassar, so she had that circle of friends around here too. She couldn’t disappear, fade into nothingness.
Because she lived at home after college, while she took her billing and coding course—after all, what could one do with a degree in comparative literature—she had now saved enough money to live elsewhere. The problem was her mother. Her mother begged Lily not to desert them now. And how could she when her mother was in such a pitiful situation? So Lily was left, going around town with a scarlet A. Well, no, A is for adultery. So she guess an F for fraud? C for criminal class? T for tanked, as that’s what her life was doing.
Her mother had taken to drinking wine from Trader Joe’s instead of from Winder’s Winery. So was Lily going to be dealing with an alcoholic along with a gambling addict? She should try to interest her mother in marijuana. It would mellow her out. But her mother was under the impression that marijuana was still illegal. Like, that mattered in their household anymore? But oh no, here Lily was, on her way to Trader Joe’s again. Using her own credit card because all her parents’ joint cards and bank accounts were frozen.
On her ventures out, Lily took to wearing a hoodie. She figured, if no one could spot her auburn locks, she was less likely to be recognized. Grabbing a shopping cart, she wanted to pick up a few vegetables and some samosas before she hit the wine aisle. It was while she was examining the frozen food that someone said, “Lily?”
Busted! Damn it!
Lily looked up. At first she didn’t recognize him. But then, how could she forget him? It was Frank Franklin, Eden’s older brother. He was five years older than she, so she hadn’t really had much to do with him, socially, but she always thought of him as handsome and desirable, the way girls saw their best friend’s brothers. Well, ex-best friend after the football fiasco. The guy wasn’t even worth the loss of her friendship with Eden. He was way too impressed with himself. For a reason Lily could never fathom.
“Frank?” She said tentatively.
“Hi.”
Jesus, he was smiling at her. Didn’t he know?
“How are you doing? Are you surviving?”
Okay. He did know. Deflated, she tried to just push her cart past him.
“Hey,” he said, “you don’t want a ticket for dangerous driving.”
“No,” she retorted. “I have enough on my plate with the law right now.”
Puzzled, he wondered, “Were you involved in the fraud?”
“Of course not,” she snapped. “It doesn’t matter. The Stanton name is now shit.” Oh great, a woman with a baby in her cart was looking at Lily indignantly. “What are you doing here anyway?” she asked Frank rudely—in a much lower voice.
“Visiting my mother. She lives in one of the new apartments on Baker Street. Hey, look, Lily, we both have scandals in our families. There’s no reason to be angry at each other. Which by the way, I am not.”
“Then I suppose your father didn’t have anything invested in Allgate Reality.”
“Oh, hell, yes, he did. It was the major part of his portfolio. But, except for small bequests to his children it was all going to go to his widow.” He smiled and shrugged. “No harm, no foul.”
Loosening her grip on the shopping cart, Lily said, “Well, I’m glad for that. I mean that it doesn’t hurt you or—Eden.”
“Oh, Eden’s pissed as hell because chances are she won’t get the twenty thousand Dad left her. But then—weren’t you two on the outs anyway?”
Lily shrugged. “Stupid high school stuff. Regrets. I have a lot. Well, I—“ She made to push past him again.
“Do you want to have lunch? My mother’s working and I’m on my own until her birthday dinner. Or—“
What was she to say? That she had to make the wine run for her mother? Screw that. Lunch with someone that didn’t hate her sounded like a plan. She left Trader Joe’s without hitting the wine aisle. Her mother could always resort to Dad’s Glendronach.
September 29, 2022
Mama Bear—Eden Franklin
Always the last to know, Eden thought bitterly. She had called Mr. Patterson, the lawyer Dad has chosen to be his executor—also the one who handled the divorce!—and asked when she would be getting the measly twenty thousand dollars her dad owed her. Mr. Patterson explained to her that most of her father’s estate had been tied up in something called Allgate Reality, which was now under Federal investigation for money laundering. The twenty thousand most likely would not be there any time soon, if at all.
Shocked, Eden had put down the phone, only to pick it up about ten minutes later to ask about her father’s personal property, like his Mercedes sports car and the BMW iX. Mr Patterson unkindly said, “If you reread your copy of the will, it clearly states that all personal property goes to the widow.”
“Widow? You mean Black Widow!” Eden shot back.
There was silence on the other end before Mr. Patterson said calmly but coldly, “Eden, I know you’re upset about your father’s death and that you never accepted Heidi Fairfax Franklin as your step-mother, but you have to let it go. It’s basically over and done with. Your father gave you a good life and a good start for your future. That’s more than most people your age have. So you are blessed.”
“I want to be blessed with my fucking twenty thousand dollars!” Eden shot back before she slammed down the phone. Blessed. If someone provides you with the advantages she’ll admit she had through her younger years, they should continue to provide them because that’s what would be expected. It’s like those models who marry football players and divorce them after a couple of years. They get to keep their standard of living. Why shouldn’t she!
She called her brother Frank. “Did you know about this? Of course, you did!” she said before he had a chance to answer.
“I assume you’re referring to Allgate Reality?”
“You knew.”
“Yes. Only because Allgate had come up in some work I’m doing. Or was doing. I didn’t want to mention anything until there were more developments.”
“Did you tell Riley?”
“I let Riley know, yes, because I knew she would be rational about it.”
“Meaning?”
“Look, Eden, you have to move on. Dad and his money are gone. I advised him not to invest so heavily in real estate. He told me it was a sure thing, that he and all his partners were investing. I couldn’t dissuade him and now we’re stuck with this unfortunate situation.”
“Unfortunate!” She hung up on her brother. The prig!
She stewed all night and had to call in sick the next day. This was too much for her. Not that twenty thousand was that much but to know that nothing was coming, not from her father or her mother—how was she to live?
Maybe there was some mistake. She put in a call to Dad’s old office, told the receptionist who she was and asked to speak to Dr. Horowitz. Twenty minutes later he called her back. “Eden, my darling girl, what can I do for you? Again, so very sorry about your father. Between patients, so—“
“Did you invest in Allgate Realty?” She could be just as abrupt.
A sigh. “I’m afraid we all did. Some more than others. After all, it was one of your father’s best friends who gave us that advice.”
“Who?”
“Will Stanton. He has an office here in—“
But Eden had hung up the phone. Will Stanton. Mr. Stanton. Oh, yeah, she knew Mr. Stanton—and the Missus. Lily Stanton, bright bubbly, on the cheerleading squad with Eden, was Eden’s best friend in high school. They did everything together, including a bit of shoplifting. They were so close until— Until Lily stole Eden’s boyfriend senior year just ahead of senior prom. Captain of the football team, he and Lily were voted king and queen of the senior prom. While Eden was reduced to going with a member of the swim team, someone who looked ridiculous doing the butterfly in cap and nose clips! Oh, those Stantons. There was going to be hell to pay now!
September 27, 2022
Mama Bear—Frank Franklin
Frank Franklin, Esq. found his eyes blurring as he went over a commercial real estate contract. Old mall dead, new condos rising. But, aside from this being a way to earn a paycheck, did he give a damn? No. He wished he could come up with something he really wanted to do, something he was passionate about. But that would probably be sitting in the second bedroom of his apartment, the one that overlooked a rather busy street, reading a novel, while at the same time keeping an eye on the happenings below. However, no one would pay him for sitting, reading or observing.
In preparation for a brighter future, Frank kept a close eye on his finances. Living in a modest and not especially well-located apartment, he was able to put a fourth of his salary away every month—so far. That was thanks to no medical emergencies and his very generous benefits package. The money accruing in various investment plans would go toward what he really wanted to do with his life. Yet, here he was, about to turn thirty and he had absolutely no idea whither he should wander. At least his ex-wife Marni had the friendly skies, and his older sister Riley had her career track all planned out. So what was wrong with him?
His former classmates with whom he kept in touch thought he had it made, working in a small firm, where he could gain realms of experience. It was, he would concede, as good a fit as he was likely to get. He had been in the top ten percent of his graduating class, but had no desire for the pressures that went with joining a large firm. Nor did he want to be a single practitioner. Or a civil servant. So here he was at Reynolds & McCormick. As far as experience, well, there was a division of labor. There were lawyers handling estates, wills and trusts, two who dealt with personal injuries and traffic court. He seemed to be consigned to real estate. They started him on residential, where he got to meet a lot of women and dealt with many emotional crises during settlement. It seemed something always went wrong. All of a sudden, the buyer would notice something during the walk-through and demand financial concessions, which the seller wasn’t willing to give. It was much better when buyer and seller were out of the picture and it was left to the two lawyers. That first year had led him to appreciate the nightly cocktail that was now his custom.
He was happy when they moved him to commercial. There was more money involved, but for some reason a lot less stress. In the case he was dealing with now, he represented the corporation that owned the mall. Their property was being acquired by Allgate Reality.
Allgate Reality. Instead of flipping houses, Allgate flipped failing or abandoned malls, at least around this tri-state area. These properties were ripe for residential developments, as they were definitely suburban and thus desirable for commuters. True, many towns tried to fight redevelopment because of density concerns and the stress on the budgets. But Allgate was stacked with attorneys, who usually won.
Frank was familiar with Allgate through his father. Dr. Jerry Franklin had still been with his mother Bernice when Frank first got his job with Reynolds & McCormick. His father sat him down for a heart-to-heart about money and making it work for you.
Frank assured his father he had the situation in hand and would be paying him back for law school, but his father shrugged that off, waved the offer away. “My pleasure. I like to see my kids achieve. But I want you to do for your children, when you have them, what I was able to do for you. You’re making big bucks for your age, you’ve got to learn how to husband your resources. Stocks and bonds are all good, but consider something tangible. Like real estate. It’s the way to go, kiddo. Look at all the moguls, you’ll find that’s where they’re putting their bets. Something solid.”
Frank had joked. “You see yourself as a mogul now?”
“We got this contact—“
“We?”
“Me and my partners. This investment broker we’re dealing with has the magic touch when it comes to making money.”
“Like Midas?”
“Don’t knock this, Frank. Some people have it and you gotta pay attention. Anyway, our guy has an inside track with a property agent dealing with the end of the mall era. The company he’s connected with is buying up all that valuable land, turning it into condos, senior living establishments—“
“Prisons?”
“You’re not taking me seriously. But let me tell you, ever since I invested with Allgate, my net worth has sky-rocketed. I’m selling some of my worthless stocks and moving the money over.”
“Diversification, Dad,” Frank warned.
“Not when you’re getting the returns I am.”
“Bernie Madoff.”
But Dad pooh poohed him and said it was the lawyer in him, the new lawyer, being careful and he could respect that. But still—something to consider.
Why didn’t Frank consider it? He had to wonder after his father died because there was a hell of a lot of money there in his father’s estate, a lot of it to be realized from Allgate Reality.
Oh well. He still believed in diversification, but perhaps his father had been right. What was wrong with making a quick buck? Meanwhile, he had to plow on with this deadly dull contract.
When everything was ready for the signing, Frank would turn his work in to Dulce Reynolds, a name partner, who mainly dealt with family issues but would glance through a junior’s work to be on the safe side. She’d ask like twenty questions and then give him the go-ahead.
He did have a few ethical qualms about handling this contract, which he supposed he should have brought up to Dulce. Like, his father’s investments in Allgate Reality had to be sold before he, Riley and Eden could get their twenty thousand. But this wasn’t really a conflict of interest. Was it?
Finishing his work, dusk settling on the building, he sent Dulce a text that he was done reviewing the contract and there were just a few niggling points both sides would have to consider. Another job successfully completed by Frank Franklin, Esq.
That night he allowed himself a double scotch and had fallen asleep in his favorite chair, a copy of “Henry Esmond” slipping down his chest into his lap. He might have stayed there well into the early hours if the cell phone hadn’t rung, jerking him awake.
“Hello,” he mumbled.
“Frank?”
“Dulce!” That woke him. His boss was a firm believer in a line between work and life.
“No one’s signature is on that contract you’ve been working on?”
“No. There are still a few issues—“ Shouldn’t she be glad he was dragging out the billable hours?
“Forget it. Forget the whole thing.”
“What?”
“The Treasury Department is looking into Allgate Reality. Turns out it’s allegedly, remember that, allegedly a money-laundering operation. Everything’s frozen. Including their funds.”
After Dulce’s promise that they’d discuss this tomorrow, they both hung up, leaving Frank to wonder. If the funds were frozen? If there would be no money forthcoming whatsoever, what would happen to his father’s estate? His father, who had bet on a sure thing.
What was that old cliche? There was no such thing as a sure thing. Wisdom for the ages. He sighed and then thought well, he and Riley would be fine. But Eden? Let the whining begin.
September 9, 2022
Mama Bear—Bernice
Bernice was working the evening shift at the library, 5 through 9. The dinner hour was usually quiet, but by 7:30 or so, the library hummed. The new director was big on having a book club meeting in the evenings, or musical performances, anything to draw the people in and keep the numbers up—and growing.
Bernice didn’t mind the evening. The morning shift had all those baby and toddler classes, with children trailing in after their nannies, or crawling behind their strollers. Occasionally, there would be a mother. Some of those mothers could be quite demanding. Self-checkout seemed to confuse them; but, okay, that’s why Bernice was at the desk, to help out. However, why the complaints when they discovered they couldn’t take out any more books because some items on their card were overdue or lost and, after all, it wasn’t their fault? Who knew where the kid had stashed them? Let’s not even talk about damage from teeth marks or dried cereal.
Always a smile on her face, that’s what Bernice had to remember, even in the afternoons between two thirty and three thirty when the schools let out and the children came here instead of going to an empty house. Most of them spent some time studying. But to go past the bathrooms was to smell a certain odor she was familiar with from Eden. Where do kids get this weed? Even if it’s legal, it shouldn’t be for these young ones. Was she becoming an old fogey? She didn’t think so, but she only had herself to ask.
Letting her thoughts drift, she wished something would change for Eden. Her father’s death had hit Eden very hard. Of her three children, Bernice recalled only Eden crying copiously at the funeral. But then she was always dramatic. What did Riley call her, a drama queen. Poor Eden. After having been to their father’s condo, all three children had come to Bernice’s semi-cramped apartment after the funeral. Semi-cramped because when she had to leave her house, there were pieces of furniture and kitchenware she couldn’t bear to give up. Her children expected her to be bitter. But was she?
All the advice columns said give yourself a year before you make any rash decisions after a life-changing event. And within that year since the divorce was final, Jerry was dead. Was that another life-changing event? Did she have to wait another year?
She felt sorry for Jerry. Very occasionally. When she wasn’t incredibly angry. They had known one another forever. They were young together and so in love. Then there was his residency and his practice and the children, and it had been such a good life. A fulfilling life—for both of them. She thought.
Until the divorce papers arrived.
But—water under and over the bridge. Jerry was dead. She was alive. Life went on. So she assured her children that she was just fine. Then Eden stated quite boldly that she hoped Bernice would be continuing her monthly allowance.
Her monthly allowance? That had been a shocker. “You get a monthly allowance?” Bernice, herself, had only gotten a lump sum after the divorce, no spousal support because, gee, couldn’t she still go out and work? True, there was the pension and the stock and the house but— Eden, monthly money from Jerry, really?
“Daddy knew how expensive living in DC is. It’s only two thousand a month. No problem, right?”
Bernice looked at her other two children. Frank gave one of his famous eye rolls, while Riley just shook her head in disgust. “Wake up to reality, Eden,” Riley said. “Dad is dead. Mom will not be writing you a monthly check for two thousand dollars. Look around the apartment. She’s barely hanging on as it is.”
Well, Bernice was a little taken aback by that. The apartment wasn’t that bad, was it?
“She has a job!” Eden shot back.
“It’s part-time, Eden,” Bernice said gently. “I’m afraid I can’t help you.”
“But you’re my mother!” Eden exclaimed.
Eden’s anger hurt much more than Jerry’s death.
Only a week later did her son Frank drive over from Hartford to tell her about the insurance policy and how he would help her claim it. “And nothing is to go to that spoiled brat,” her son warned her. “She’d sell your kidneys if you let her.”
“I don’t think she’d go that far,” Bernice said with a smile.
“Don’t tempt her.”
Money. Sometimes she got annoyed at the library and thought she should look for something else. The library kept all part-time workers’ hours to just under where they would have to provide benefits, like health insurance. Bernice couldn’t wait for Medicare, but she’d have to. Meanwhile, she was paying a fortune for health insurance, a big bite out of her budget, because she was still keeping to her budget, despite the insurance windfall. She now knew how fast money could disappear.
Susan came into the back office. It was Bernice’s turn to be out front, handling the desk, where she would be checking patrons out and dealing with fines, printing receipts. She couldn’t blame them for not wanting to use the automatic payer. She wouldn’t trust it either.
“Bernice!”
She looked up from a check list she was going over. “Howie,” she responded with a smile. Howie was the urologist who dealt with Jerry’s kidney stones. He came to the funeral, even though she thought of them as passing acquaintances and not friends. But then she obviously knew less than she thought she did about dear Dr. Frank. “I haven’t seen you in the library before.”
“Kindle,” he explained. “When I have time to read, and that’s rarely. I’ve actually come in here to get a library card. Finally. My daughter’s kid is six months old, and she wants to sign him up for Mommy and Me classes, but she’s too busy to come in. Since you’re on my way home, I called; and the library said I could get a card and place authorized users on it. For my daughter and the nanny.”
“Of course. The library is always grateful for new members. And starting a child young with books is a great idea.” She withdrew the paperwork necessary to apply. It was one page.
“I don’t know if I have time for this now,” Howie said doubtfully.
“It takes about two minutes, name, address, email, phone, and then you show me proof residency like a driver’s license and tell me whom you want on the card and you’re good to go. There’s a desk free right over there.”
Taking the paper and patting his shirt pocket, Howie asked, “Do you have a pen?”
“We’re full service,” she said brightly.
It took Howie five minutes to fill out the form and one minute to wait impatiently while she dealt with someone else. Bernice checked the form over, noted his New York driver’s license and home address, then asked the names of those who had permission to use his account. He gave his daughter’s and confessed he didn’t know the name of the nanny. “Can you just put down ‘Nanny?’”
“Hmm. Why don’t you have your daughter call that name in?” She handed over the bright blue card and said, “Congratulations.”
He took it from her and hesitated. “How are you, Bernice?”
She shrugged her shoulders and looked around her. “Absolutely fine.”
“It was terrible, what happened to Jerry,” he said rather mournfully, as if giving a patient bad news.
“But what a way to go,” Bernice joked. “He died with his boots on. Or off, but somewhere nearby.” She chuckled, and saw Howie was a bit uneasy. “Life goes on. Until it doesn’t. You should know that, Howie. I look forward to seeing that grandchild of yours enjoying story time.”
And that was it. Shades of her old life. At least he didn’t shun her the way wives did. Looking over, she saw an old man with a DVD in his hands, coming over to complain it didn’t play from the look on his face. The man was already holding out the DVD, which he had just broken in half. He threw the detritus onto the counter and said, “If you can’t lend a DVD that works, you should get a new one.” He turned and left.
There was a better way to handle a situation like this, she thought. Just turn it in and receive a civil apology. Now that she still had the case with the checkout number, he would receive a bill for the breakage. She sighed. Men. At some point they have to get their comeuppance.
September 6, 2022
Mama Bear—The Daughters
Her sister Riley was a cold fish, as cold as their father in his grave. Either that or she was a lesbian, Eden couldn’t make up her mind. Why didn’t her sister and brother see what she saw, that their father had been murdered? How could they be satisfied with the measly twenty thousand their father had left them each in his will. Twenty thousand? That wasn’t even enough for a downpayment on the car she wanted, never mind putting her on the road to home ownership.
Twenty thousand. And if Riley called her the serpent’s tooth one more time she’d—well, she’d do something.
Heidi had been married to their father exactly six months and seven days. Now he was dead, with the black widow getting everything. Where’s the payoff for being Dr. Frank’s children? He was there for everyone but not them. Patients came first. That was the lesson they learned very early in life. Hey, Dad, money isn’t love.
On the other hand— There’s millions locked up in the condo, the practice, the cars. Eden didn’t care what the pathologist said, or the EMT’s. She knew the truth. Bondage and LSD? Give her a break! And what did it matter that she had once been caught with drugs herself? That had been rough. If Daddy hadn’t previously treated the judge’s wife, who knew where she’d be. But she had learned her lesson. No more buying from someone she didn’t know.
Riley could afford to act superior, sitting in her assistant principal’s office, angling to move up whenever an opening occurred. It didn’t even cost that much to live in the Pittsburgh area. Not like DC, where Eden scrounged out a living working for the Smithsonian, the best she could get with her art history degree. How would Riley like to live with three roommates, one of whom had both a dog and a gerbil?
“If you don’t like it, move,” Riley told her unsympathetically. Move where to do what? She couldn’t move to the southwest. No water. She couldn’t move to the Outer Banks, they were being washed away. Florida would be under water soon. New England, could she stand the cold? No, she couldn’t. And she wanted to travel, she wanted to live. But you can’t live without money.
Oh, the glory days when she was an undergraduate. That year in France. The summers in Italy. Why couldn’t she have that again?
She could if she could prove Heidi murdered her father. Then his estate— She should check again with Frank, yes her brother, Frank Franklin, Esq. What would happen with Daddy’s estate if Heidi did commit murder. Because if it would go to a charity or something, what was the point of bothering?
Maybe her mother—but her mother lately was always crying poor. Like, really? She had a job. Did she think a birthday gift of $500 was really going to cut it anymore?
What to do, what to do! If only Eden could find someone rich to marry. Maybe a lobbyist or something. But the last party she went to was a work event where they talked about trekking through Nepal. Seriously? There wasn’t enough weed in the world to get through that one without puking. Nerds nerds and an assortment of more nerds. Her roommates were no help. They were looking for the same things she was. Escape!
Hells bells where was the fortune that should be waiting for her? She deserved better than what she has. And damn it, she was going to find a way to get it.
Eden wondered. If she actually accused Heidi of murder, like, “I Know What You Did Last Summer,” would Heidi pay her off to shut her up? Was it worth a try?
One thing Riley Franklin hated in life was whiny people! Like her sister Eden. Like the teachers she dealt with. Never mind the parents, a whole different breed. Why couldn’t people just suck it up and deal with it?
She knew the teachers hated her. Or shall we use the word “disrespected.” It was all because she only taught for one year. Along with student teaching. But teaching was never her aim. Making money was. One did not make money as a teacher. That’s why she got her Ph.D. at the University of Pittsburgh, to move into administration as quickly as possible. And for her it was up or out. If she couldn’t find a position of principal open in the district in the next two years, she would look elsewhere or consider the community college.
If Eden got off the drugs, maybe she could understand ambition. After all, who was the one who fucked up her life by getting a degree in art history? Fun times, but what’s in the cards for her future? Unless Eden gets married. To someone willing to put up with her incessant whiny needs. Like their father did.
Poor Dad, Riley thought. What an ignominious way to die. Or to be discovered in death. He did so much for them, and she was sure they were all a disappointment to him. Not that he was ever around that much to steer them in the right direction. But, oh, how he longed for one of them to take up medicine or at least science. He had suggested she become a molecular biologist. Even in high school she couldn’t see crap under the microscope, never mind making slides. But she was good in math. However, did she want to become an accountant? No, she was a people person, she kept telling herself, even if few others saw her that way. Schools were desperate for math teachers, so she ended up teaching algebra to ninth graders for a year, before taking a break to her further studies. At least Dad didn’t pay fully for that, as it was part of her continuing education, for which she could access funds from the district.
She sometimes wished she were closer to her brother and sister. But she was the eldest, Frank in the middle, then Eden, five years younger than she. Five years means a lot when you’re growing up. And maybe Riley resented the fact that Eden was everyone’s darling, with her strawberry hair, her beguiling smile and her cutsie ways—which wasn’t helping her out much now.
Frank? What could one say about a brother. Dad wanted him to go out for sports, like football or baseball. Riley could still remember the eye roll when Dad dropped that news. To her, not to their father. She smiled at the memory. Frank tried out for the swim team instead, but the constant ear aches make him change to track, after which volley ball, where he broke a finger. It was still crooked to this day, but at least it wasn’t the middle finger. Dad finally gave up on making Frank some sort of sports pro.
She at least could have an adult conversation with Frank, unlike with her younger sister. They didn’t see much of each other or communicate regularly, but at least they were both sensible people. At the funeral, with Eden suggesting murder, they both told her to shut up or Heidi might sue her for slander. And when Riley suggested how worried she was about their mother, Frank told her about the insurance policy, still in Bernice’s name. “Thanks to me,” he said sotto voce. “Dad did want to change it but I said too soon.”
“So Mom—“
“She should be fine, financially. Unless she changes habits of a lifetime and blows it all.”
“God, I don’t want to get married,” Riley said.
“This has definitely been a turn off,” Frank agreed. Then he looked over at Eden, crying copious tears. Could it be for the monthly allowance she’d no longer get?
Families, Riley thought. Working where she did, living the way she had, she knew that all families were completely fucked. When her biological clock reached the alarm stage, she was going it alone, as far as motherhood went.
And Dad? Well, he died the way some men do. Look at Nelson Rockefeller. If it could happen to him, well, why not Dad?
A knock at her tightly closed door. The guidance counsellor. Riley only hoped she wanted to talk about an academically troubled child and not a potential mass killer.
