TarynI glanced around the parking lot, trying to remember where I parked when I saw it. The dented, brown Dodge Ram truck that had been parked in front of Jeff’s house the day of Olivia’s birthday party and in the therapist’s parking lot on multiple occasions.
It was Shannon’s truck. But sitting in the driver’s seat was a scruffy looking man smoking a cigarette. Something on his phone engrossed him, and he didn’t notice me.
I took the opportunity to get a good look at him. He had longish, shaggy black hair and three or four day’s growth of patchy beard. He banged his fist on the steering wheel and expelled what looked like, “motherfucker.” His anger jolted me. I turned away and hustled to the car.
Shannon had told Jeff, me, the therapist, and anyone who would listen that she was single,
