Chapter 3
After changing into shorts and a T-shirt, and controlling my spurts of giggles, I started to feel sorry for Dad, all alone on His Day. Not sorry enough to go—oh okay, I told myself, I’ll go downstairs and make nice, or at least try. As I passed Chris’s door I could hear crying. I kept going. I stopped at the foot of the stairs as I heard Dad on the phone, his voice low and happy sounding. “I’ll be right over. You know how it is on Father’s Day, you gotta be home so the kids can…uh oh, gotta go. See you soon, dear.” I did an about face and headed into the kitchen instead of toward the living room. Luckily the hall was long enough to do this without being seen. I had an almost irresistible urge to ask him if he needed some of his condoms back, but instead I opened the fridge. I wa
