Road Rage by Jessi Gage Read Free Book Online Page A

half of Target’s stock of curtains, pillows and rugs. The kid seemed more excited about helping him spiff up his house than about the two bags of school clothes languishing by the front door, where he’d dropped them before grilling up kebobs. Apparently, she’d inherited the decorating gene from Deidre.
    He turned from the sink to face a kitchen that looked like a landfill for the mounds of shopping bags, crumpled packaging material and random piles of colorful fabric–holy hell, was that pink leopard print?
    “That better be for your room,” he said, indicating the fuzzy pink pillows and glittery fabric occupying one of the kitchen chairs.
    “Duh, dad.”
    Guess he ought to think about getting rid of all the stuffed animals in there. She was growing up so fast. Maybe it seemed faster since he only saw her on the weekends.
    “And these are going to look awesome in your room,” she said, holding up a wad of sheer blue fabric he guessed to be curtains. They matched the blue whorls and arcs in the silver-gray king-size comforter she’d picked out for his bed. “Just imagine waking up to this color every morning!”
    In Target, he’d found Haley’s selections for his room on the feminine side, but here in his house, he liked the colors, especially the blue. There was something familiar about it. The doorbell gonged in the living room, derailing his train of thought.
    Over the last two years, he’d learned to dread the sound of his doorbell. No one ever rang it but Deidre. Always at eight sharp on Sunday night. Always reminding him he wasn’t like other dads. He had to squish in his time with his kid between Friday’s five-o’clock news and Sunday-night’s SportsCenter . He’d lost the freedom to enjoy Haley week round when he’d failed in his marriage.
    “Is that Mom?” Haley knelt on the linoleum with a gold-and-rust striped pillow in one hand and a brass curtain rod in the other. Her eyebrows slanted with disappointment, probably because she didn’t want to stop in the middle of her project.
    “’Fraid so, kiddo. Time flies when you’re having fun.” He offered her a hand to help her step out of the quagmire of crinkly plastic, but she ignored it, bounding into the living room and throwing open the door.
    “Hi, Mom!”
    “Hi, babe,” Deidre said. She strode in wearing a stylish denim jacket over a lacy top that looked more like lingerie than a shirt, and wrapped Haley in a long hug. “Missed you.” Her eyes darted to the two overflowing bags of school clothes on the floor. “This looks like a lot, Derek. Are you sure you can afford all this?”
    How many times did he have to tell her he was doing okay? He never missed a child support check, and he pitched in with expenses like clothes and school supplies all the time. He was sick of her treating him like he was one step away from collecting food stamps. She might make more than him, but he lived a hell of a lot more modestly than she did.
    “Mm-hmm.” Probably best to keep his mouth shut. She couldn’t pick apart mumbled responses, could she?
    She shot him a warning with her eyes. “I’m not judging you,” the look said, but the look was a lie. Deidre ran on judging him. It was her fuel. She didn’t know how else to be. She’d lose animation if she ever stopped pointing out the thousand-and-one ways he was an inferior parent.
    “Dad also let me pick out curtains and throw pillows and rugs and a ton of stuff to make his house way better.”
    The tension sailed over Haley’s head. Thank God. He and Deidre would never be more than passably cordial to each other, but he’d be damned if he’d let Haley grow up refereeing fights between them. He didn’t want her to fear his moods. Kids deserved to run carefree, not walk on eggshells.
    Deidre’s perfectly-lined eyes bugged out. “I hope you didn’t bully him into buying too much.” She raised her voice at the end to compensate for the distance as Haley ran back to her booty in the