Page 138 of The Endowment Effect

“Now I’m exaggerating things… next thing you know you’re going to tell me to calm down.”

“Under the circumstances, and the miscommunication running amok of this conversation, calming down might not be a bad idea.”

“Oh, so now you’re being a misogynistic asshole.”

“What did you call me?”

She pursed her lips, hopefully realizing she’d crossed a line. Evidenced by her tone lowering considerably. “I called you misogynistic. It means…”

“I know what misogynistic means, and although I’m impressed with your advanced vocabulary, I’m disappointed in your application.

“As for that last name you just called me… I think you should go to your room and consider how we can have a civil disagreement without you resorting to name-calling and cursing.

Tears spilled over her cheeks, as she turned and bolted up the stairs.

Lucas stood shell-shocked, wondering how this conversation had gotten so out of hand, as his daughter slammed her bedroom door.

* * *

The next morning,Birdie sat up in her makeshift window bench/bed, did some financial calculations and electronically wired the funds due to the Fountainhill Center. She had just enough money in her account to cover the staggering amount that would cover Pearl’s stay for the next quarter. So, basically, she had three months to get a job and earn enough money to pay for another quarter.

Or rob a bank.

Become a prostitute.

Learn how to macrame and sell hanging pots at the weekend flea market after church on Sundays.

While contemplating her options, she received a group text where Pinkie called an emergency meeting of the Pinkie Posse. Noting that attendance was mandatory, with the exception of Leona Wilson, who was scheduled to have ingrown toenail surgery that day.

Birdie was even more surprised when she read the meeting was at none other than Bernadette’s house. She had to assume it was Pinkie’s discreet way of getting Bernadette involved and genuinely wanting to spend more time with her.

Even though Bernadette had her Gullah Geechee friends, Birdie figured you could never have too many people who loved and looked out for you.

While picking Mia up at Lucas’s house that morning. Birdie texted Mia that she was waiting out front and sat in Angus’s car hunched down in the driver’s seat, unable to face him after their mind-blowing sexy-time in the garage turned sauna turned sex dungeon.

Birdie’s head popped up as Mia marched outside and slammed the front door behind her.

Her daughter was stomping through the front yard as if preparing the perfectly manicured lawn for new sod.

A complete one-eighty from when she usually picked her up from spending the night with her Disney hero of a father.

Lucas stood on the front porch and waved forlornly as she pulled out of the driveway. Mia pretended not to notice and stared out the passenger window with an impressive amount of pissy-teenage angst with a side of royal-pain-in-the-ass attitude, written all over her scowling face.

Interesting. It appeared the honeymoon was over and Dad got a taste of being the parent of your everyday typical mercurial teenage daughter.

“Everything, okay?” she asked, treading lightly.

“Other than Dad being an unreasonable douche canoe. Sure.”

“Got it,” Birdie said, nodding in order to encourage discourse. “Dad’s a douche canoe.”

“I amnotgoing to his house on Sunday,” she said resolutely.

“Is there a particular reason?”

“Yeah, I want to go to church and he won’t take me.” She paused and then said, “Well, he’ll take me but he doesn’t want to.”

Church?

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