Chapter 9


Chapter 9
Thursday, September 6
As Tracy Ravenna drove through downtown St Louis, she couldn’t help glancing at her son at each stoplight. It didn’t take a blood test to tell he was Chuck’s son. One look at the two of them would confirm that in a heartbeat.
If she judged Chuck correctly – and she was rarely wrong – he would treat Jack no differently than his other sons. The wild card in all this was his wife. She forgave Chuck for the affair, but would she accept Jack?
More importantly, how would Jack take this bombshell? So far, he proved to be a very adaptive, resilient little guy. Could she make him understand without disillusioning him? She pulled into a parking place at the family court building. No turning back now.
“What is this place, Mommy?” Jack tugged at the necktie she put on him when she picked him up from school. “I look like a dope.”
“This is the courthouse, and you don’t look like a dope. You’re very handsome.” She patted the passenger seat. “Come up here.”
“Really? Like climb through the seats?”
“Just this once. We need to talk about what’s going to happen in here.” She took his hand and steadied him until he slid into the seat beside her.
“Are we in trouble? Are we going to jail?”
“No, this is family court, but it’s still big stuff. We’re going to a hearing, which means we’ll go talk with a judge.”
He perked up and grinned. “Do we hafta swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”
“Just listen for a minute. There will be another man in there, too. His name is Mr. Molinsky.” Tracy looked into Jack’s eyes. They were her eyes, the only thing he had of hers. “Jack, Mr. Molinsky is your dad.”
“No, he’s not.”
“Yes, he is.”
“You said my dad was dead. If he’s my dad, where’s he been?”
“I didn’t tell you about your dad, and I didn’t tell him about you because I just wanted it to be you and me.”
“You lied?” His eyes widened. “You told me never to tell lies.”
“I didn’t know what else to do.” She smoothed his hair. “A mommy’s biggest job is to protect her little boy from all sorts of things. I was trying to protect you.”
“From what? What things?”
“Just things.”
“Is that why we moved here? To find my dad?”
“Kind of… not exactly… It’s complicated. Maybe when you’re older I can explain it to you.”
“I hate that answer,” Jack said with a frown.
“Well, that’s all you’re getting for now.”
Jack closed and opened the air conditioner vents. “So, was my dad happy about me?”
“Of course,” Tracy said. If she assumed yelling, threats and court orders were a sign of happiness, then Chuck was overjoyed. “At the hearing the judge has to say officially that Mr. Molinsky is your dad, and then he’ll probably say you need to be with your dad.”
“Be with my dad?” The little boy’s eyes grew wide and his breath came in quick, shallow bursts. “You’re giving me away?”
“No, never.” She took his hand, and looked at him, hoping somehow to transfer what she felt in her heart directly into his. “I promise you, I would never give you away.”
“Never. It’ll be more like a sleepover, then you’ll come right back home.”
“Just one time?”
“No, it will probably be every couple of weeks.”
“What if he doesn’t like me? What if he’s like Cinderella’s evil mother? Or what if he’s got a dungeon?”
“Jack, calm down.” She laid a hand on his shoulder. “Your dad is a good guy. The best. You don’t have to worry.”
“I’ve never been on a sleepover before. What if I do it wrong?”
“You can’t do a sleepover wrong. You’ll have fun.” Jack’s bottom lip jutted out. “The judge may say some other stuff, too. We’ll just have to wait and see.”
“I hafta do this?”
“Yes, you do.”
He rolled his necktie up to the middle of his chest, and then let it drop. “What’s his name again? Mo-what?”
“Molinsky. Chuck Molinsky.”
“I can’t say that. How about just Chuck?”
“No first names with grown-ups. You’ll have time to work on it later.”
“Ok, then, let’s get this over with,” Jack said, opening his car door.
Bobbi sat with her husband on a bench outside the hearing room. Just a hearing, Chuck said, nothing to worry about. Yeah, right. Going to court might be second nature to him, but it intimidated her almost as much as the prospect of seeing Tracy Ravenna.
Mr. Henneke quickly agreed to her request for a personal day, so she spent the morning pacing, fidgeting, and drinking coffee. With her messed up metabolism, coffee always calmed her.
She carried a folded sheet of paper in the left pocket of her blazer. Early this morning, alone in the study, she wrote out Psalm 91 three separate times.
No evil shall befall me. You promised, Lord.
Chuck sat beside her, explaining what would happen with great sweeping hand motions, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the far end of the hall. Any moment that heavy fire door would swing open and Tracy Ravenna would stride through.
She gripped the sheet in her pocket. I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress; My God, in Him I will trust.” God, you promised.
“It’s not that formal,” Chuck said. “Today’s just a hearing. Now if Tracy wants to be difficult, then the judge can order a trial, and it’ll be more like what you see on television.”
“You think she’ll be difficult?” As if she could be anything else.
“If she mentions Rita’s stunt, or if she included that in any of her filings, it could get very difficult. Either way though, the paternity shouldn’t be an issue. I’m acknowledging it, and the tests proved it.”
“How long do you think this is going to take?”
“Thirty minutes, tops.”
Thirty minutes. Surely, I can live through thirty minutes.
Just then, the door to the conference room opened, and a woman carrying a thick folder in her left hand, extended her right hand to Chuck. Bobbi was a little surprised that she wasn’t wearing a robe, but a navy suit instead. Maybe that was the difference between a hearing and a trial.
“I’m Judge Margaret Swift, and you are?” she asked with an air of authority and command. Tracy wouldn’t be able to con this judge.
“Chuck Molinsky, the plaintiff,” he answered, shaking the judge’s hand, “and this is my wife.” Before Bobbi could apologize for having such cold hands, the door to the stairwell opened.
Her breath caught in her throat as she watched Jack Ravenna shuffle through with his mother close behind. Bobbi dropped her eyes and looked away. Chuck took her arm, and ushered her into the hearing room before Tracy could catch up to them.
The clack of Tracy’s heels on the tile floor grew louder, so Bobbi took the seat furthest from the door. Wait and dread gave way to the gut-wrenching reality of facing the woman who nearly destroyed her marriage, and tore her family apart for months.
Lord, You promised to protect us from all snares and evil. This would be a great time to make good on that promise. Please let this be as quick and painless as Chuck says it will be.
Jack Ravenna hopped up in the first seat he came to, and scooted all the way back, but then his feet didn’t touch the floor. He huffed and slid back out to the edge of the chair. Then he noticed the other man and woman in the room.
That… is my dad? He’s old! Like seventy or something. He’s more like a grandpa. Maybe my dad is still out in the hall somewhere.
He glanced behind him, but when the judge closed the door, he frowned and studied the couple across the room. The guy wore a red-striped tie just like his, except the guy didn’t look like a dope. But he didn’t look like a fireman or a cowboy or a football player or anything cool. Just a guy in a tie. An old guy.
The lady, though, looked nice. He knew her from somewhere, but he couldn’t get a good look at her. The lady never turned her head. She just looked straight at the judge. The guy looked over and smiled at him, but Jack didn’t smile back. He couldn’t smile at a guy he didn’t know, even if it was his dad.
Judge Swift took her seat in the middle of the long table across from the others. A clerk, who had been seated in the corner, stepped up, placed a microphone in front of the judge, and switched it on. The judge opened the folder, and opened the glasses she wore on a chain around her neck and slipped them on.
“I’ve read all your filings. Mr. Molinsky is acknowledging paternity of Jackson Charles Ravenna. Ms. Ravenna is not contesting, and DNA testing has determined there is a ninety-nine-point-six percent likelihood that Mr. Molinsky is indeed the father. Is this correct?”
The judge looked first at Chuck who answered, “Yes, Your Honor.”
Jack snapped upright in his seat. He didn’t know the guy was gonna talk. He sounded like the principal in his kindergarten school when he said, "Boys, straighten up!"  
The judge looked at his mother. She nodded and softly answered, “Yes, Your Honor.”  Two yeses. It was official now. The old guy was his dad. Jack slumped back in his chair.
“All right then,” Judge Swift said. “For now, I’m ordering visitation for Mr. Molinsky alternate weekends, beginning tomorrow, from five p.m. Friday until eight p.m. Sunday evening, and every Wednesday evening from three p.m., or whenever school is finished for the day, until eight p.m.” The judge made some notations on the top sheet in the folder, and then she looked up at Chuck. “You need to build a relationship with your son.”
 Chuck squeezed Bobbi’s hand and gave her a sideways grin. He got exactly what he wanted. She, on the other hand, had to figure out a way to explain this all to Shannon tonight.  
“Further,” Judge Swift said, “Ms. Ravenna supports the claim that Mr. Molinsky was not aware of the birth of the child, nor of his existence these last six years. She has not asked for support and from her financial filings, it is clear that she is independently capable of providing for the child.”
Judge Swift closed the folder. “However, Mr. Molinsky, you appear to be a man of some means, and more than willing to accept your responsibility and obligation to your son.” Chuck nodded. “Ms. Ravenna’s refusal of support should not abrogate your responsibility, nor should the child be denied the benefit of that support. Therefore, I am ordering a sum of fourteen thousand dollars per year in back support for the maximum of five years, a total of seventy thousand dollars, to be established in a suitable fund for the boy to be applied to his college education.”
Bobbi choked at the sum. Tracy’s going to get his money after all. She tried to steal a glance at Tracy, but the woman had angled her chair, purposely no doubt, to make that impossible. Chuck, however, didn’t bat an eye.
“Is this a problem, Mr. Molinsky?”
“No, Your Honor. I’ll need some time to transfer the funds.”
“That’s understandable. I’ll say thirty days. Notify the court if that’s not long enough, and we can extend it. Finally,” Judge Swift said, “the court will assign a case manager who will assist you in developing a parenting plan that will address the specifics of your arrangement. As part of that plan, we will work out an equitable amount of monthly support going forward.” She slid a calendar closer. “October eighteenth, I’ll see you back here with the final plan. Any questions?” She looked at Tracy and Chuck giving them a chance to speak. “Nothing? Then if you ladies will excuse us, I would like to speak with Mr. Molinsky and Jackson.”
Bobbi’s jaw dropped. Wait in the hallway alone with Tracy. Chuck didn’t say anything about this. No way. Tracy patted Jack’s knee and eased around his chair. Bobbi waited, running her thumb over the paper in her pocket, as if nothing bad could happen as long as the sheet was there, as long as she had contact with it.
After giving Tracy plenty of time to get out, Bobbi stood to leave. Chuck squeezed Bobbi’s hand and winked. She almost laughed out loud at him. Did he really believe a wink could reassure her? She answered his wink with a glare before she slipped out the door.
Chuck knew that look meant Bobbi would unload on him as soon as he left the hearing room, but honestly, he never anticipated the judge sending her out in the hall with Tracy. Besides, for all her fears, Bobbi was a very strong woman, more than capable of standing up to Tracy.
Since he couldn’t do anything for Bobbi right now, he focused on the little boy in the chair next to him. His son. His son was coming home with him tomorrow night. A lump rose in his throat as Jack looked him in the eye for the first time, but the boy quickly dropped his eyes.
Judge Swift folded her arms and leaned forward on the table. “Now Jackson—”
“Just Jack,” the boy corrected.
“All right, just Jack,” the judge said with a smile. “This was quite a surprise to you, wasn’t it? Have you met your dad before?”
“My mom said my dad was dead. He doesn’t look dead.” Jack nodded toward Chuck.
“No, he doesn’t. Have you ever spent the night away from your mother, like at a grandparent’s house?”
“I don’t have any grandparents.” Jack fidgeted with his tie. “Do you think this looks dopey? My mom made me wear it.”
“No, it’s very appropriate. Jack, do you understand that I ruled that you’ll spend tomorrow night and Saturday night at Mr. Molinsky’s house?”
“Yeah, I got that part.”
“If you get homesick, Mr. Molinsky will take you back to your mother immediately, but you need to spend some time with your dad.”
“It’ll be okay. Mom said he was a good guy.”
Chuck’s smile hid his shock.  Was Tracy’s hostility an act then? Why?
“Do I get my own room?” Jack asked with Joel’s squint. “’Cause I have my own room at home, you know.”
“You can have your choice of Brad’s or Joel’s room.”
“Who’s Brad and Joel?”
“Your brothers.”
“I have brothers?” Jack’s eyes grew wide.
Chuck disarmed him at last. “Oh yeah, and a sister.”
“A sister! Mom told me about her!” He quickly clamped his hand across his mouth. “Oh no, that was supposed to be a secret. You won’t tell her, will you?”
“No.” Chuck pulled his wallet out and motioned for Jack to come closer. “This is Shannon,” he said, showing Jack her picture. “She’s five. These two guys are Brad and Joel.” Chuck pointed out each of his sons.
“Those guys are old,” Jack frowned.
“Joel is eighteen. He’s in college, and Brad is twenty-two. He’s in law school.”
“My mom’s a lawyer.”
“So am I. I used to work with your mom.”
“You came to my house that night!”
“Yes, I did,” Chuck said, putting his wallet away.
“Hey, you need a picture of me in there,” Jack said.
“You think you could get me one?”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Jack said, and then he turned to Judge Swift. “Can I go now?”
“Yes, we’ll be checking with you to see how things are going with your dad, but I think you’ll get along fine.”
“Thank you, Judge!” Jack scrambled around the chairs and out the door.
Chuck shook the judge’s hand. “Thank you.”
“Not at all. This looks like it may be the very rare happy ending.”
As soon as Bobbi saw Tracy seated on the bench, busy making notes in her planner, her instinct was to go straight to the car. Only the possibility that the judge might call them back in made her stay. Hoping for invisibility, she leaned against the wall on the other side of the hearing room door. Please God, let this go quickly.
Tracy continued to scribble, and Bobbi couldn’t help glancing her direction. The woman had to be approaching forty by now, although it didn’t show. Her tailored tan suit and hunter green blouse buttoned almost to the top set off her auburn hair. She crossed her long legs, drawing Bobbi’s attention to her tan pumps, made from some exotic skin, probably snake. Bobbi couldn’t resist a wry smile. Snake, how fitting.
As that smile faded, she conceded Tracy was certainly attractive, but hardly the seductress Bobbi always pictured, perhaps hoped, she was. Believing the affair was completely Tracy’s fault was so much more palatable. Otherwise, Bobbi had to admit Chuck’s failings, and face the responsibility he bore for the adultery. His guilt then became her guilt.
Bobbi knew she hadn’t driven him to cheat, hadn’t neglected him, or berated him, but she was hardly the perfect wife. What if she’d dealt with the tension and drift that crept into their marriage? What if she’d been less combative in those months before the affair? What if she hadn’t left Chuck home alone and gone to Detroit with Rita? The what-ifs never went away. She doubted they ever would.
Afraid to move and risk the rustle of clothes or anything that might draw Tracy’s attention, Bobbi dropped her head, and began counting floor tiles. She flinched when Tracy spoke.
“Mrs. Molinsky?”
Her voice was unnervingly gentle and courteous.
“Look, I really don’t have anything to say to you—”
“I understand that,” Tracy interrupted, “but things are not the way you think they are.”
“Really?” All the angry, bitter thoughts Bobbi harbored about Tracy raced through her mind, ripping open those wounds. “You expect me to believe you’re something other than a shameless, vindictive woman out to destroy my husband and my marriage?”
Tracy uncrossed her legs and turned in her seat. She smiled slightly and gently shook her head. “I’m not vindictive, and I’m not out to destroy anyone. Whether you believe it or not, I don’t want anything more from Chuck.”
She shuddered hearing Tracy say Chuck’s name. Don’t dignify her with a response. Let it go.
“Mrs. Molinsky, again, this is not my doing. He came to my house. He filed the paperwork. He’s the one making the demands. You should take this up with him, really.”
Bobbi clenched the paper in her pocket so tightly her fingers ached. “What I discuss with my husband is none of your business. My marriage is none of your business.”
“Your marriage survived.” Tracy coolly arched an eyebrow, and her mouth turned up ever so slightly at the corners. “And that is precisely why I chose Chuck.”
“You chose him?”
“I have a great deal of respect for Chuck. He’s a good man. I knew he would never leave you for me, and now I have Jack. Jack is my life.”
“You used him? Just to get pregnant?” It was all for a baby. The anguish of those months she and Chuck were separated, and the long road back, all so Tracy could have a baby. Joel was right. Tracy was a sociopath with no regard for anyone but herself. “You have no idea what kind of pain you caused.”
“I never claimed to.”
“Then why come back? You said you got what you wanted, and you’ve left us alone for years.”
“I had no choice.”
Before Tracy could say anymore, Jack burst out of the conference room. “Mom! I have brothers and a sister!”
“You are a lucky boy.” Tracy smoothed his hair and shepherded him toward the door, without so much as a glance back toward Bobbi.
Lucky. Years ago in the coffee shop, Tracy said Chuck was a lucky man. Was there a connection? What did she mean when she said she didn’t have a choice?
“Honey, I’m sorry,” Chuck said as he closed the conference room door behind him. “I had no idea the judge would send you out here with her.”
He reached for her hand, but she pulled away. “She is evil, Chuck. I feel like I need to go wash.”
“What did she say?”
“She said she chose you,” Bobbi said, sarcastically imitating Tracy, “because she knew you’d never leave me.”
“Well, she’s right about that part.”
“Don’t you think that’s a little creepy? Choosing you?”
“I don’t know, maybe.” Chuck put a hand on her shoulder to guide her out the door, and down the stairs. “We’re through with her for six weeks.”
“I doubt that. We’ll never be through with her until one of us is dead.”
“Now who’s being creepy?” Once they reached the parking lot, she let him take her hand. “All in all, I thought things went great.”
“Define great.”
“We got Jack. She didn’t fight anything, and she didn’t mention Rita at all.”
“You got visitation rights, and she’s not going to fight anything she can’t win, and there was that small detail of seventy thousand dollars! Did you miss that part?”
“We can make that back in six months as long as the stock market doesn’t crash.” He unlocked the car, and opened her door for her. “We got Jack. Tomorrow night.”
He shut her door, keeping her from replying. Purposefully, she suspected. In the afterglow of his victory, he seemed to have conveniently forgotten their daughter who knew nothing about the little boy her daddy was bringing home. With his determination to push things forward, Chuck stripped away any possibility of easing Shannon into this new family arrangement.
Chuck got in on his side of the car, tossing his suit jacket and tie in the backseat. “What?”
“I know you are more excited than I will ever understand, but I’m not sure I’m comfortable with this, and I’m really concerned about how Shannon’s going to take the news. We haven’t told her anything, yet.”
“Shannon will be fine. She’ll love having Jack around.”
“You hope. You assume even, but you don’t know.”
“Honey, God wouldn’t bring all this together if it was going to hurt Shannon.”
Bobbi gave up trying to talk to him. He wasn’t listening. She pulled her cell phone from her purse and dialed her sister’s number. “Hey, we’re done, so you don’t have to pick Shannon up.”
“How’d it go?”
“He won, I guess. He won visitation, but the judge ordered Chuck to pay seventy thousand dollars in back support.”
“Seventy, seven zero.”
“That’s a fortune! I thought she didn’t want any money from him.”
“She didn’t ask. The judge graciously awarded it.”
“So when does visitation start?”
“Tomorrow night.” Bobbi glanced at Chuck, and hoped he was listening. “Say a prayer that we can explain it all to Shannon. Her little life is about to be thrown into complete upheaval.”
When Bobbi didn’t say two words on the drive to Shannon’s school, Chuck decided it was for the best. She did better if he left her alone to process things. Bobbi had to learn how to separate Jack and Tracy, to see Jack as his son, not Tracy’s son.
Chuck found a parking place in the shade at Stoneburner Elementary, but before getting out of the car, he turned to his wife. “Jack’s not like his mother.”
“He’s got her genes.”
“And mine. Plus, he’s going to have something his mother never had, and that’s a stable family to belong to.” He took her hand. “What you’re giving him is priceless. It’s going to change the course of his life.”
“Glen already said that. You’re making me feel guilty.”
“Whatever works,” Chuck said with a smile. Yeah, she’ll come around.
After waiting in the gymnasium for several minutes along with the other parents and grandparents, a bell rang and Mrs. Brubaker led a group of kindergarteners through the far doors. Chuck spotted Shannon, holding tightly to her backpack, scanning the crowd for a familiar face. When she saw her parents, she grinned broadly and ran to them, dodging adults and the other students.
“I thought Aunt Rita was coming,” she said as Chuck swung her up into his arms.
“We got finished, so we came instead,” Chuck said. “I can leave you here for Aunt Rita, if you’d rather.”
“No! I want to go with you!”
Chuck set her down, then took her hand and began to steer her through the crowd with Bobbi sticking close behind them.
Once they made it to the sidewalk where there was more room, Shannon took Bobbi’s hand, too. “I wish you could pick me up every day!”
“Mommy does pick you up every day,” Chuck answered.
“No, I mean both of you.”
“That would be pretty terrific.”
“Can we get ice cream?”
“We have some at home,” Bobbi said.
“Rats,” Shannon said, climbing in the back seat.
Chuck leaned in to buckle the seat belt. “It was worth a shot,” he said with a wink.
“Guess what happened today?” Shannon asked as soon as Chuck got back in the car. “Dylan pushed Emily in the lunch line.”
“That wasn’t nice,” Chuck said.
“Well, he already got in trouble twice, and Mrs. Brubaker said if he didn’t want his name to end up under the bucket, he better straighten up.”
“What’s under the bucket?”
“Daddy, first you move your name down, then you turn it over, then you hafta put it in the bucket. Then you don’t get any recess.”
“Under the bucket must be really bad then.”
“Nobody in the history of the world’s been under the bucket.”
“I think I’ve been under the bucket before,” Chuck said.
“When?” Shannon’s eyes were wide, anticipating a good story.
“Long time ago. It’s a long story.”
“Tell me, tell me.”
“Later,” Chuck said. “Much later.”
Once they got home, Shannon could hardly wait for her mother to unlock the front door. She bounded into the house, dropping her backpack by the door. “Shannon, go get your Bible,” Chuck said. “Mommy and I want to talk to you.”
“Now?” Bobbi said quietly to Chuck.
“It’ll never be any easier.”
“What are you going to say? How are you going to explain adultery to a five-year-old?”
“I think I’ve got it. You can jump in if I mess it up.” Shannon found her Bible and met her parents in the kitchen. “Is this your real Bible, not your storybook? This is the one with all the words?”
Chuck took her Bible and sat down at the kitchen table with her, with Bobbi across from them.
“Okay, Mommy taught you these,” Chuck said as he began to count on his fingers. “Genesis, Exodus…”
“’Viticus,” Shannon said, picking up the list. “Numbers, Deuteronomy, Joshua, Judges, Ruth, First and Second Samuel, First and Second Kings, First and Second Chronicles—”
“Hold it right there,” Chuck interrupted.
“But I can say the rest.”
“I know that, but I want to read some from First Chronicles with you.”
“Daddy, nobody reads that.”
“Pastor Glen would probably agree with you.” Chuck smiled and turned the pages in her Bible. “Here, let’s read this part right here.” He pointed out the genealogical list of King David’s wives and sons.
Shannon followed along, reading the words she could with Chuck tackling the names. When they finished, he laid the book aside. “What did you see in that stuff we just read?” Chuck asked.
“David had a lot of kids,” Shannon said.
“He sure did. What else?” Chuck read the passage again to help her remember.
“He had a lot of mothers, too.”
“Well, they weren’t David’s mothers, they were his sons’ mothers. Just about every son had a different mother. Do you think that’s the way God wanted it?”
“I don’t think so,” Shannon answered.
“You’re right. It’s not. But David was still the daddy, and he had to take care of all those boys even though they all had different mothers.” Shannon nodded. Chuck swallowed hard and continued slowly and carefully. “Sweetheart, your daddy… I… I have another little boy… who has a different mommy than you do.”
“You do?”
“Yeah,” Chuck answered quietly. He glanced over at his wife, looking for reinforcement that he was handling this right. Bobbi’s eyes were brimmed with tears, but she gave him the subtlest nod. “His name is Jack, and he’s six years old.”
“He’s almost the same age as me!” Shannon sat up straight in her seat, her eyes wide.
“Yes, he is, and he’s going to stay here with us sometimes. In fact, he’s going to spend this weekend with us. Friday night and Saturday night.”
“Can he go to church with us?”
“Definitely. It’s going to take some getting used to for all of us, especially Mommy and Jack. This is not Mommy’s little boy, so it’s a little weird for her. And Jack, he just has his mom, so it’s going to be different for him to have a bunch of family around.”
“It’ll be okay. I’ll teach him everything he needs to know.”
“I’m sure you will,” Chuck said with a smile, his own eyes tearing just a bit. “Thanks, sweetheart.” He motioned for Shannon to come closer for a hug. “Thanks for understanding.”
When Shannon let go, she looked him in the eye and gently asked, “Is that why your name was under the bucket?”
“Yeah, but I think it’s out now.” He glanced at Bobbi again.
“Yes,” Bobbi said. “Daddy’s name is out of the bucket.”
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