TWELVE
Some nine hours later I stared at a little beam of sunlight that had penetrated the blinds, falling with golden cheer onto the spot on the bed next to me. I leaned forward, unable to keep from sniffing the sunshine. It smelled like Ben. My toes curled happily.
Are you still awake? I asked softly, just in case he had gone to sleep. He’d woken me up a short time before to tell me he was returning to Naomi’s trailer before the sun came fully up.
Yes. You’re not still angry with me?
No. I was for a bit when you insisted you had to go back to Naomi, but I understand, Ben, I really do. I’m sorry I called you a ratty pustule on the buttocks of a slug.
Your apology is accepted.
And I’m sorry I threw that fire extinguisher at you. You’re sure the lump on your forehead has gone down?
Y
