“Adrian provides for us.”
Lola said nothing.
“He pays the mortgage. Handles the big financial stuff.”
Still nothing.
“He and Sophie just don’t get along.”
I said it like something I had rehearsed enough times to stop questioning.
Lola finally nodded.
“Okay.”
But neither of us believed me.
I HAD SPENT YEARS EXPLAINING ADRIAN AWAY
On the drive from the airport, old memories kept surfacing.
Adrian at dinner, looking Sophie up and down.
“That sweater makes her look homeless.”
I would say:
