“Creed, dear,” Deborah said carefully, nearly tripping on the name. “You and Destiny left four years ago without so much as a by-your-leave. We had no idea where you’d gone or what your intentions were. I don’t think you should expect to be welcomed back with open arms. That’s not how these things work.”

“Sorry we didn’t keep you informed about our busy lives,” Shelly said.

Deborah turned on her in a flash. “I’m not going to put up with any shit from you so you can knock that off.”

Shelly shut her mouth, but she made a comic face, eyes getting wide, mouth pulled down in mock surprise. Like, Lah-di-dah, the nerve. Did you hear what she just said?

Greg made a gesture, indicating that he’d take care of it.

At least he was starting to stand up to her, Deborah thought. Watching them, she felt like she’d developed X-ray vision. She could see all the little nuances in their communication, the ploys, the dodges, the way they tried using emotion to throw her off balance. This was like the children’s game of hot potato, where the object was to leave the other guy holding the bag.

Greg said, “So where’s Rain? Shawn’s been looking forward to seeing her.”

“I’m picking her up at three. How long did you plan to stay?”

“Couple of days. Depends. You know, we haven’t decided yet.”

Shelly cupped a hand to her mouth, like she was making an aside that no one else could hear. “Notice how she’s ducking the subject of Rain,” she said to Greg.

Deborah kept her voice in a singsong range, as though speaking to a child. “Well, Shelly—oh, excuse me. I meant Destiny. What is there to say? We didn’t think you were interested in Rain. There was never a letter or a phone call and not a penny of support for her. The child is ours now.”

“What, like you gave birth to her? News to me.”

Deborah didn’t think it was possible to loathe another human being more than she’d loathed Shelly in the past, but apparently, there were untapped reservoirs of hostility that Deborah could call upon at will. “We adopted her. We went through the court system. Your parental rights were terminated. That’s what they do when parents abandon a baby at the age of five days.”

Shelly said, “Fuck you, bitch. I’m not putting up with any shit from you either!” She got up, agitated, and snatched up her shawl. “Come on, Sky Dancer.” And to Greg, “We’ll be in the bus when you get done kissing butt. Jesus, what a mama’s boy.”