It was already pretty late, way past dinner time.
Henry wanted to stay, but Leslie wouldn't budge.
He walked her to the car himself, watching as Leslie and Broderick drove off. Then, he took off back inside like a madman.
Leslie turned back and caught a glimpse of his sprinting figure, then looked steadily at Broderick.
"Ricky, if I ever got seriously sick like that, would you panic like Mr. Holt just did?"
Broderick didn't say a word.
Leslie was already used to his poker face.
Still, she pouted and muttered loudly enough for him to hear, "Ugh, newlywed husband acting all cold... is there a fix for that?"
Connor, sitting in the front, almost choked.
Ahem, wow, Leslie really pulled no punches.
Broderick kept his silence.
Meanwhile, Henry bolted upstairs, b
