Chapter 3
“Thanks, Marshall.”
2
Akira donned oven mitts and carried the pot of oatmeal to the table of the condo. She elbowed her father awake again. He lifted his head from his crossed arms on the table. “Dad, come on. Breakfast. You’ll feel better.”
“Ahhhh, why do you punish me?”
She bent, pecked his cheek, and moaned, half joking. “It’s my job to torment you. You have to be on time for the new job.” She wondered how he kept a full head of shiny, black hair and young complexion despite his refusal to care for his body.
He croaked, “It’s just for the week.”
“And it can lead to more work. We need the money.”
“Didn’t the bitch send the child support and alimony?”