52
Glenn stayed in his truck (avoiding Diane’s wrath) while I parked their car and handed Ralph over. She did okay until I told her to watch Ralph for signs of concussion, but not to take him to the hospital. Then I suspect only her distaste at disturbing the neighbors kept her from screaming at me.
Between the driving and the hard use, my body had stiffened up like a piece of beef jerky—the real kind, not the processed, convenience store kind. Climbing in Glenn’s truck was even more difficult than it had been hours before.
“You want to just leave your car at Cooper’s tonight?” Glenn asked.
Tomorrow was Thanksgiving. I looked at the clock in Glenn’s truck. Actually, today was Thanksgiving. “If you don’t mind it staying until Friday.”
“Not a problem,” he said. “We should probably do a
