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As always, I don’t have to be at the stadium to start my evening shift until four in the afternoon. Darsey should have my Jeep returned to me by then. In the meantime, I have things to do: clean the house, do some laundry, knock out a few chapters in the newest Ruth Ware—love her madness!—mystery, and get a nap in before work. Plus, I’d like to watch the highlights of the weekend rugby game between the Cradle Colts and the Baxter Hole Bears. Online chatter suggests that Nelson Baye of the Colts plastered one of the Bears in the face with an elbow and broke a jaw. Who doesn’t want to view and relish that mishap?
It’s around one o’clock in the afternoon when the front doorbell chimes. I tell myself it’s Darsey returning the Jeep. I’ll ask him to stay for lunch: three-cheese grilled
