Chapter Twelve
When Florence drove Richie home late that afternoon, he was full of dread at the prospect of facing his mother. His grandmother had the magazines stuffed in her purse in plain view. Richie could see parts of their lurid covers. The magazine covers were like billboards. They exposed his darkest secret, and it embarrassed him that his grandmother knew. He hadn’t had a chance to go through the magazines. He could not stop himself from envisioning what was inside. He didn’t dare look at the covers for more than a second lest his grandmother catch him. When they reached his home, Florence took her purse into the house. Richie trailed behind.
“Margaret, I want you to see what dreadful business your son was doing when he was supposed to be working.” She pulled the magazines from
