Waking the next morning, I'd hoped to find Portia hogging the bed and the blankets, but I found her space empty. I dreaded what I had to do and figured a shower would serve me well before facing the mess I'd created last night, although I wasn't the only one responsible for the turdshow at the manure corral. The shower ran cold while I played different scenarios in my head for how to word things with Ernie and Hensley, and I ended up deciding spontaneity would play in my favor. I never did well with anything rehearsed.
By the time I made it downstairs, it was nearly eleven, and the house was relatively quiet. Portia and Hensley were nowhere to be found, and I started to wonder if this was going to be a habit of Portia's every time she came home.
Ernie sat at the table with a cup of cof
