Saturday, interspersed with visits to both my grandfathers, the final fitting of my tux, and other last minute errands, saw us finding any excuse we could come up with to spend as much time in bed as we could. And not merely in bed. In the shower, on the couch in the living area, braced over the table in the work space…
“We’ll have to clean this up,” I muttered as I sank in a boneless heap onto the plush rug beneath the desk. I’d die of mortification if the cleaning crew saw the mess we’d made of our suite.
“Later,” Hyde said. “You need some rest.” And he scooped me up and carried me over his shoulder to the bed.
And now today…
The room for me and Uncle Brad was small by Trunk standards, but we managed not to get into each other’s way as we showered, shaved, and began pulling on clothe
