“Her car’s in the driveway.” Greg’s tone was pointed. “And?” There came a sound like she was flustered. “Well, when no one answered the door, I thought she’d spent the night with Preston while you weren’t home. I assumed you’re a good father who doesn’t allow that sort of thing.” “What ‘sort of thing?’” Greg’s words were sharp, and I pictured his expression matching his voice. “You know what I mean. Letting your son’s teenage girlfriend sleep over.” She said the word teenage the same way I imagined prim and conservative Judy would say atheist democrat. A long and very male sigh rang out.
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