“I guess.”
“It’s not every day we get to go on an adventure digging for clues. I feel like Fred driving the Mystery Machine.”
That made me laugh. “Fred, huh? Who does that make me?”
“Velma,” we said together, as I pushed up my glasses.
“We should have brought Abby along.” My baby girl had been called Scooby Doo more than once, by Z, in fact, when I’d introduced the two six months earlier.
Why did that half a year feel like a lifetime ago? Not forgotten, but maybe less painful, so much came back to me that day, with the blooming of the bulbs.
“So, now we get lunch at the family restaurant?” Carmen asked.
My smile disappeared again, and the pain returned full force.
Calls for information from a news station can bring in a wide variety of responses, from the ridiculous to the downrigh
