EIGHT
We felt a couple of aftershocks during the night but nothing major.
In the morning, Hayword’s ankle wasn’t any better. I suggested he go in for an X-ray.
“I’ll drive you,” I said. Once again I was up at the crack of dawn.
“No,” he said. “I want you to read the script.”
“I can read it in the doctor’s office.”
“Go to your studio,” he said. “Or stay here. I don’t care. Get takeout. Make a day of it. I want you to be able to concentrate. Eartha can take me. Then she can drive me to work. I won’t stay long and she’ll get to tool around town. She said she wanted to check out some places.”
I shrugged. “Hey, trying to do my wifely duty. I really have no desire to sit in a doctor’s office with you.”
“I knew that,” he said. “You didn’t need to say that out loud.”
“Didn’t know I did.”
