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Show 61 to look up to her. But above all, it was her voice which demanded attention. It carried an edge, even when she appeared relaxed. As if she had to constantly battle for control of the hard energy within her. She was the kind of person whom other people turned toward when she walked into a room. Lately, however, her energy had somehow turned against her. She was constantly on edge, bitchy. Sharon hated to ride with her. She drove a new gold Cadillac, and was continually cutting in front of other cars, particularly in front of oncoming traffic when making a left turn. Or often she would jump the light, diving across the lanes before the oncoming traffic started into the intersection. Or she would honk while waiting behind another driver, even when it was obviously dangerous for the other diver to pull out. Every trip to the store involved one close call, sometimes more. When a driver would roll his window down to holler at her, she would slam on the brakes and cuss back. More than anything else, this got to Sharon; she would avoid looking at the driver or Katie, and sink down into the seat, trying to disappear. It was even worse around the house. The slightest thing out of the ordinary would set her off. Usually the one who took the brunt of her irritation was her oldest son, David. He was from her first marriage, a fourteen year old, large for his age, he was as tall as Sharon. With a bad acne problem and carrot red hair which seemed to defy a comb. On each side of his head a stubborn cowlick twisted and gnarled into a point-so that the two of them together, on each side of his forehead like that, roughly resembled a pair of devil's horns. This, with the constant sneer on his face and with his teenage slouch, put people off. |