16
I ran over to T, grasping his arm to keep him steady. “Hang on,” I said. “We’ll bring the car around.”
“I’m fine,” he lied as he attempted to stand but sunk back down.
“Give me your keys.” Before he could reach into his pocket, I stopped him. His knuckles were swollen and bloody. “I’ll get them. Which pocket?”
He patted his left pocket. I stuck my hand in, being careful to only feel for keys. In his state I doubt he’d feel anything at all, but still . . .
I found the keys and tossed them to Ida. “Can you bring his car around?”
As soon as she drove up, I yanked the passenger door open and helped T into the car.
“I’ll take T home,” I said to the ladies. “We’ll regroup tomorrow morning.”
Hopefully they’d stay out of mischief until then. Judging by their stunned expressions, I’d say
