e day he came home from a Chamber of Commerce dinner and said, “I met someone.” Vivian was beautiful in that intimidating glossy way. Every hair in place, manicured nails, clothes that whispered money even when she claimed she was struggling. She said she’d been through a rough divorce, was trying to rebuild her life with her teenage son, Dexter. She told Dad he was exactly the kind of steady man she needed. And Dad, God bless him, believed her. He brought her to Sunday dinner 2 weeks later. She brought an apple pie that looked like it belonged in a
Xhbakhi