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Some of that energy came from her affection for Summer and the natural worry the situation created, but some came from guilt. The teen was suffering because of Peter’s actions.
She tried not to let her discomfort show. She was friendly, joining in the conversation. It was only when Summer retreated upstairs that she turned to Erica.
“This is Peter’s fault. If he hadn’t been so selfish and stupid, none of this would have happened.”
Erica raised her eyebrows. “I agree that this is on him, but what’s happening with Summer seems like the least of his sins.”
“How can you say that? She’s his child. Did he ever once think about how this would affect her? He says he loves her, then he commits a bunch of crimes and goes to jail.”
“I doubt jail was one of the goals.” Erica studied her. “You’re really upset about Summer.”
“Of course. This is horrible. We have to do something. Talk to the school or those kids’ parents. And I’m going to put this all on Peter when I next see him.”
Erica motioned to the family room sofa. “Waddle over there and have a seat.”
“I don’t waddle.”
“Want me to take a video? Regardless of how you get there, you need to get off your feet. You’re so huge, it’s painful to look at you.”
“Imagine how it feels from this end, and don’t try to distract me. Someone needs to suffer.” She collapsed in a chair.
Erica’s expression remained calm. “While you and Summer were heating dinner, I scanned the school’s bullying standards. I don’t think what they’re doing qualifies. Are the memes awful and mean? Yes. But unless this continues for weeks or they get worse, I don’t think talking to the administration is the right thing to do. Mostly because Summer doesn’t want it.”
“But she’s in pain.”
“She is, but she’s tough and she has a lot of support. We’ll both keep an eye on her, as will my mom. If I think for one second she’s hiding something from me, I’ll call her on it. We can be on alert, but I think fire-bombing someone’s house is a little extreme.”
“I never suggested that,” Allison grumbled. “That’s going too far.”
“I’m glad you think so.” Erica’s glance fell to her belly. “About the childbirth classes...”
“No.” If Allison could have jumped to her feet for emphasis, she would have. “Stop talking about it.”
“One of us has to.”
“Yes, and you’ve decided that’s you. It’s not your problem. I’m fine.”
Two days ago Erica had suddenly started going on and on about Allison going to a childbirth class, which was ridiculous.
“I remember everything I’m supposed to do,” she said sharply. “Jackson was born less than two years ago. It’s not like anything has changed.”
“Why are you being difficult? You need a refresher course and you need a coach. You can’t have the baby alone.”
Words Erica no doubt meant to be helpful but every one of them felt like a slap.
“Would you get out of my business, please? I know I owe you, but I don’t want to talk about this. No. Just no.”
“I can see this conversation is upsetting you,” Erica began.
“Oh, can you? How perceptive.”
“You’re in a mood.”
“And you’re not listening. We are not having this conversation. It’s none of your business.”
“You’re having a baby. You need to take a class and—”
“I’m not taking a damned class,” Allison shouted. “Not by myself and not with a friend. Peter is my husband, this is his baby and he needs to be there.”
