CHAPTER 23

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Lucy stood in front of him, defiant yet victorious. Half of her was in her house, with the door opened between them, leaving Sanford standing in the cold, speaking with plumes of air behind each word. The second he'd uttered the words, "I can't," her animosity and love for her ex-husband went to war with each other. This was her weekend after all, not her's as in with Sadie, but her's as in her's and Richie's. They'd have the house to themselves, with every room at their disposal.

"What do you mean you can't take Sadie this weekend?"

"Look, Lucy, something's going on that's beyond my control and I need to fix it before it gets any worse. I need to go home, back to Sanford, Maine," he said.

Her mouth opened to speak but nothing came out besides a curious gasp.

She regrouped and venomously fired off questions. "What in the fuck are you talking about? You're not making any sense. Why in the fuck would you go back there? What, do you need to visit your old house with all those lovely memories?"

"No, well... maybe. What I need to do is see somebody I grew up with. She might be able to help me." He was being as vague as possible. He wouldn't dare mention Eric and toss Lucy into the world of his psychotic paranoia. Knowing her, she'd only think he was going mad, and that's not what he needed, no matter how close to the truth that may be.

"She, huh?" Lucy said with a crooked smile. "Is she the same one who scratched your face like that?"

He had forgotten all about the scratches. He hadn't even thought about them when he looked in the mirror. They'd become a sort of truth to him; his true self, defiled.

"I did this to myself. Dr. Wesley tried to hypnotize me."

Lucy hadn't wanted to feel it, but the sympathy came in droves. When it came to Sanford it always had, as if he were some bizarre caricature of Charlie Brown with a tortured past.

"That fucking quack," Lucy whispered. "I told you that you should find a new doctor. Besides, it's pretty obvious she wants to fuck you. But hey, you might be into that doctor/patient thing."

"Stop it, Luce. That's not what I'm here to talk about."

She sighed, thinking for a minute. "Well, it's your weekend with Sadie, and you know how important that is to her, and you know how important that is to me. So, you're going to have to take her with you."

A wave of nausea hit him.

"What? No, I can't do that! Are you crazy?"

"Why the hell not? Don't you think it's important for her to see where you came from?" Lucy said, hardly believing it herself.

"Are you joking? You know where I came from, and when we were together we agreed that she should never know about what happened to me!"

The cold winter air did nothing to cool the nervous heat radiating from him. He was mad—mad at the fact she didn't understand, nor could she, because he wouldn't tell her the full truth. Where he was standing—on the front stoop of their old house in twenty-degree weather—didn't help resolve his anger either. After all these years, she was still hesitant to let him inside when Sadie wasn't home.

At that moment, she opened the door and gestured him inside, as if she heard his thoughts and wanted to prove him wrong. This woman must always be right, he thought as he entered, shaking off the cold.

Lucy exhaled a tumultuous sigh, and took out a cigarette from her loose, exposing robe. She hadn't meant to do it, but her nipple popped out from the side of the silky cloth. Sanford couldn't help but notice it. Lucy took note of his reaction, adjusting her robe.

"I'm not saying you tell her what happened, but there's nothing wrong with taking her on a little tour," she said.

"I don't know, Luce," he responded, already half defeated.

"Please, San, I need this weekend, and you know how happy it will make her to go with you." She leaned back against the arm of the couch, the skirt of the robe across her naked thigh.

"Don't do that."

"Do what?" she said as her robe moved an inch higher.

She had him and he knew it.

"That..."

Lucy smirked as she put the cigarette to her mouth and lit it. She inhaled and let the smoke spill out of her mouth lazily.

The smell of the cigarette snapped him out of it.

"It's not gonna work," Sanford said, finding his confidence.

Lucy stood up straight and readjusted her robe, inhaling a harsh drag.

"Whatever," she said, tying her robe tight. "Look, Sanford, I'm done arguing with you about this. You have a lot to make up for, right? You don't want to be the absent father. Do you want Sadie growing up telling stories about the good times with you or the bad? Take her with you. You both need it."

Sanford sighed. To that, he had no response.

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