The following Thursday, Derek pulled into our driveway while I was taking the trash outside.
Audrey was leaning through his open driver’s-side window, gripping his sleeve.
“But you promised you’d talk to her,” I heard her say.
Audrey turned, released his sleeve, and hurried toward the house.
“Audrey, not now,” Derek replied.
He noticed me before she did.
Audrey turned, released his sleeve, and hurried toward the house.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“Oh, nothing,” he said with a smile. “She’s just upset we didn’t stop at the drive-thru.”
“She has dinner waiting.”
Inside, Audrey was crying in the downstairs bathroom.
“Then everybody wins.”
He drove off before I could ask more.
Inside, Audrey was crying in the downstairs bathroom.
“Sweetheart?”
“Go away.”
“It’s none of your business! Just leave me alone!”
“Did Derek upset you?”
“No!”
“Then talk to me.”
She opened the door, cheeks wet.
