Ivy sent out a few texts to friends, asking where George was. Two people told her he worked at a company that built boats and yachts. She knew where the place was located and decided to pay him a visit there.
Mrs. York took care of the baby while she attempted to see George. Guessing what time he got off work, she hung out in the parking lot. A half hour later, she was pleased to see George approaching his car. She was parked next to it.
“Hey, George!” she called, getting out of the car she’d borrowed from Mrs. York.
“Ivy?” he asked, looking surprised to see her. “I can’t believe it’s you.” George looked tanned and buff under his tee. His hair was sun-bleached to a soft blonde; even his eyebrows were.
“Hi, George,” she said, looking up into his face. “You look great.”
“So do you, girl
