“Leave some for the rest of us, okay?”
He didn’t reply, but merely handed the water bottle back to me and pushed his finger against the ignition button. We were almost the last ones to leave the parking lot; I saw one lone F-150 through the rear window as we pulled out onto the highway, but the rest of the hikers had obviously called it a day. I knew the feeling.
I’d sort of had visions of us going out for a drink as a reward for all that brutal effort, especially since we were close to the Village of Oak Creek and therefore close to PJ’s Pub, a place I used to hate because it was strictly twenty-one and over, and now loved for exactly the same reason. Also, their street tacos were divine. At the moment, I felt as if I could have inhaled a whole plateful.
But that was not to be, as Mart
