Chapter 8

Larry looked around—the street was empty. No one was watching. Jesus, it was only a maxi pad. Millions of women used them every day. How could asking her about her period be embarrassing?

So much for a nice evening together, he thought, tucking the pad back into her bag before he hefted it over his shoulder. He closed the hatch and followed his daughter to the short set of stairs around the side of the house which led down to the basement door. There he found Crystal huddled in the doorframe, arms crossed around her stomach, head down, eyes rimmed red with tears.

Unlocking the door, Larry started, “Honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t even!” She pushed past him inside, stomping across the hardwood floor to the bedroom she called her own when she stayed with him.