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I regained my composure and followed. We pulled into his driveway, me after him and both got out of our vehicles.
“Did you see that? What a jackass. He ran a stop sign.”
“Yeah, thank god you saw him! That could have been awful.”
I gave his arms a quick rub, but we both froze when a voice behind us rang out.
“Hi, dad.”
Brenton was still as ice and had gone pale. He slowly turned his body to face his front door. There, on the front step sat a girl, just shorter than I was with bleached blonde hair and a wry smile on her face.
“Dad?” I asked Brenton just as he was uttering the name, “Candace.”
The girl surveyed me, letting her eyes follow my frame down then up then down again. Her expression fell when she looked at my shoes.
Finally, she said in a fierce tone to Brenton, “Dad, why is this bimbo wearingmyboots?”
