Chapter Sixteen
Penny lay crying. Something beyond a late fight from Las Vegas had gone wrong. From the airport to the interstate to home, Penny didn’t speak a word except to say, “I’m tired.” She had come running from the airport terminal in wrinkled clothes, pitched a single bag on the back seat, jumped inside, and stared out the Turtle’s right side window pane all the way home. Panicked?
While I unloaded the bag, she tumbled from the car, keyed the front door, raced up the stairs shedding clothes, and ran to the bathroom where I caught up with her at last by the shower. As Penny had prepared squirt gun bliss, I prepared romance. A box of Fanny May candies and a small package wrapped in gold foil paper sat on the entrance door table coupled with a card that expressed love. In the upsta
