Her voice lowered. “This isn’t about whether you love me, Dad. You do. I know that. This is about whether you ever really liked those nicknames, or whether you put up with them because Mom and I thought they were funny. And if you didn’t like them, you shouldn’t have had to hear them. Not when we were all a family, and definitely not now.” Befuddled, he squinted against the glare from another car’s headlights. “What brought this on, Bea?” She licked her lips. “When I called you Old Sobersides in front of Ms. Owens, you looked…I don’t know. Uncomfortable, I guess. Maybe a little embarrassed.
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