Back at the house, Dale shuffled in and sank gingerly onto the sofa in the den. “Okay, I give up. Either my head is a freaking mess or my body is falling apart.”
Riadh dropped to one knee in front of Dale. The man looked exhausted, despite having dozed some in the car. “What can I do for you? More ibuprofen?”
“A gallon of ice in a Ziploc and a bucket of morphine.”
Riadh raised an eyebrow. He could produce both, but was uncertain of the wisdom of the second.
“I’m teasing about the morphine. If I’m sufficiently desperate I have a bottle of Percocet upstairs, just barely sanctioned by the ortho people. The ice, however, I would really like.”
Holding out both hands, a generously sized plastic bag full of ice cubes appeared. Riadh handed it to Dale, who draped it across his shoulder. “Is t
