Four hours later, we’re on our way home. Monie’s ankle has been set and immobilized with a soft cast. She’s also been shot up with a dose of tramadol and she’s feeling no pain. I glance over at her as I drive. “So, I guess we’re going to have to give you a new nickname. What do you think, kids, Clem Cadiddle Hopper?”
My daughter is silent in back, and when I glance in the mirror, I see she’s nodded off. Tom is rolling his eyes. Monie glances back at me with a frown, but right underneath there’s a smile.
“I’m lucky that couple found me.”
“Yeah! How long were you lying out there?”
“I don’t know, an hour or so.”
“Did you get their names and a number?” I ask.
“In my purse. Carl and Rose, I think.”
“I’ll have to call them tomorrow and thank them.” I turn onto Route. 92 for home. “What do
