9
When I pulled into my driveway and saw the yellow Ford Escort sitting there, I smiled for the first time in two days. Brittany had come over from Athens on one of her “wild hair” visits. She was just what I needed. I could talk to her like I couldn’t talk to anybody, not even Skeeter. There’s a level of trust with the woman you’re sleeping with that just don’t exist with other folks, no matter how close you are to them. I pulled the truck in next to hers and threw open the door. I made the porch in three steps, and hopped up onto the porch in one bound. I pulled open the door and yelled “Honey, I’m home!”
Corny, I know. But it had been a rough couple of days, and I wanted nothing more than to get out of the nasty hospital scrubs I was still wearing and wrap myself in the tender arms of
