Roman
He headed around front, leaving me slack-jawed. How could he do better? He was the benchmark for better.
‘Ya’ know,’ Ransom threw in his two cents, ‘Jasmine might have a point. You do put people on pedestals.’
I wanted to make a knee-jerk denial, but he struck a raw chord that evaporated words. I was about to call out after my father when his pickup’s tyres crunched the grit on the driveway and the tailgate end reversed around the side.
The pickup’s door swung on its hinges, and out my father stepped, moving to the flatbed. “It’s only somethin’ small, but I think you’ll have use of it.”
He lowered the tailgate and swung up onto the bed, pushing a pair of large boxes forward. A strip of tape flapped in the breeze from the foremost, and Kaison had tremendous fun trying to catch it
