Plain Jane by Fern Michaels

storm when Trixie had dropped her off. Had there? Maybe she just hadn’t been paying attention. It didn’t matter. The storm was there, right on top of her from the sound of it. She knew she was being silly and even childish, but she’d never been able to control her irrational fear of storms. Maybe if her mother hadn’t locked the screen door on her and refused to let her in the house because she was dirty, she wouldn’t be going through this now.
    Jane knew she would never forget that day. The storm had come out of nowhere, just like this one. She’d given up banging on the door and crunched down in the corner of the old porch and cried. When lightning hit the pillar on the opposite side of the porch and the roof collapsed, she had screamed and screamed until she was hoarse. Her father found her hours later.
    Too many bad memories. Too much mental baggage.
    A long time later, Jane threw back the covers, her gaze going to the windows. A steady gray drizzle dripped from the eaves. It was going to be one of those days.
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    It was eight-forty-five when Jane settled Olive into the passenger seat and buckled her up with the doggy seat belt she’d ordered over the Internet. She tossed her briefcase, purse, and flowered hat onto the passenger seat before she buckled herself up. “Okay girl, we’re outta here,” she said as she turned on the radio to get the weather report.
    The “uh” brothers down-home voices filled the small car. So named by Trixie because they couldn’t say more than two words without saying “uh.” But when it came to weather, the brothers were always on the money. Either you loved them or you hated them as an early-morning start to the day.
    Trixie and Fred hated them. In Jane’s opinion, KSIG was a great radio station, the best for Acadia Parish. The moment the “uh” brothers rattled off the current weather conditions, she switched to KATC for local news. As always, she felt disloyal because she didn’t tune into her own station, KRFG, but she shrugged off the feeling. Years of habit were hard to break.
    Jane continued down the boulevard to North Adams, crossed over the railroad tracks, and continued down South Adams until she came to the small building that housed the KRFG station. She parked, attached Olive’s leash, and headed for what she called her lair, her briefcase and purse slung over her shoulder.
    â€œFive minutes, Jane!” Tom Bradley shouted from the control room. “Move it!”
    Jane adjusted the swivel chair, then slipped on her earphones, all the while keeping her eyes glued to Tom Bradley behind the glass in front of her. The moment his thumb shot upward, Jane knew she was on.
    â€œGood morning. I’m Dr. Jane Lewis and this is Talk to Me ,” she said cheerfully. “I’ll be live on the air for the next hour to take your calls. If you’ve got a problem you can’t resolve, pick up your phone and talk to me. I’m hear to listen and to advise you. I have a feeling it’s going to be one of those days. I’ve got my first caller on the line. This is Dr. Jane Lewis. How can I help you this morning?”
    â€œFirst, I want to say that I really enjoy your show,” the caller said.
    â€œThank you. Whom am I talking to? First name only.”
    â€œDewey.”
    â€œOkay, Dewey. Talk to me.”
    â€œI need you to tell me who is right. My wife says she’s with the kids all week long while I work. She thinks I should watch them on the weekend while she goes out to do whatever she wants to do. I say I worked all week long, too, so I should have at least one day to myself. What do you think?”
    Jane rolled her eyes as she stared across at Tom Bradley. “What I think is you’re both right. You each need a day here and there that’s just for you. But you also need to spend some time together without the kids. So compromise and make a plan.