When we get back to The Pines, the nosy neighbor I’ve never met but I always see is in her driveway.  She’s the kind of person with perfect hair and lipstick who does not approve of anybody else in the whole world.  She looks at me as I carefully take Bird out of the car.

“You must be Andrew and Richard’s little girl,” she says with an eager look in her eyes.  Maybe she thinks it’s odd that Dad and Richard are together like a couple.  A lot of people do.

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