Chapter 22: Fuzzy FaceI spent my Thursday afternoon like the past three afternoons—sitting in the store, wondering what was up with Pepper, and at the same time resisting the urge to text her. She had been the one to slip out before dawn. If anybody should be texting first, it should be her.
I sat alone at the front counter on a warm spring day that was too beautiful to be spending indoors, alone. I finally broke down, tapping out my first message around three-thirty in the afternoon, and another at four. When I didn’t get a reply by five, I closed up the shop and set out to Pepper’s house on foot.
I was prepared to give her a piece of my mind, tell her next time she ought to be more considerate with people’s feelings, i.e. mine. I had an entire diatribe worked out in my head, using word
