Olivia didn’t like the harbinger in her sister’s voice. They needed to discuss the house, but agreeing to fix the place up wasn’t the same as making a decision on what to do with the place. “Okay. Have you eaten?”

“I grabbed something on the way up, but I wouldn’t mind a cup of tea or maybe a decaf coffee.” Neve moved toward the kitchen. Olivia followed.

Neve filled the red teakettle with water and set it on the stove, striking a match to light the fire since the starter on the burner was toast. Olivia moved toward the bistro table set against the kitchen wall. She’d gotten only three chairs because there wasn’t room for a fourth. She’d taken the old dinette table and chairs to a junk shop.

“I like the table. It’s the perfect size,” Neve said, pulling coffee mugs from the cabinet and setting them on the chipped Formica counter.

“Thanks. The power of Amazon.”

Neve pulled out a chair across from Olivia and sank down. “So Mom is letting Dad move back in.”

Olivia flinched. “What?”

“She says two incomes will be better. He got a job with another sanitation company near our house.”

Olivia’s stomach contracted, and for a moment the hot dog she’d eaten tried to make an encore appearance. “But they’re divorced.”

Neve looked down at her clasped hands. Her sister still chewed on her nails. “You know Mom believes Dad was totally innocent, those girls were coached in their testimonies, and that allegations were brought to destroy him because he had those drug dealers arrested.”

Olivia frowned, not wanting to have the conversation they always seemed to have. “Then he shouldn’t have taken the plea. But regardless, whatever happened between Dad and those girls was inappropriate. Even you know that, right?”

Neve shrugged. “I don’t know, Liv. I think he probably shouldn’t have let them in his office, let them sit in his lap, hugged them, and all that stuff, but I don’t think Dad’s a pedophile. I mean, guys are led with their dicks, but come on.”

“That’s a platitude people accept to give bad behavior a pass. It’s a misogynist defense, like men have no control over their penises. Not true. Those girls were children, Neve. No one gets a pass on that.”

“Dad made some mistakes, that’s for sure. Maybe he missed Marley. Maybe he was sad that we had grown up and left the house. Maybe he wanted attention or something. I don’t know. Middle-aged guys go whack-a-doodle when their hair starts thinning and their prostates get big or whatever. At any rate, Dad served his time. He not only paid for his bad choices by doing time, but he also lost his family and his career.”