The phone was ringing as Scooter climbed up the stairs to their home above the restaurant. He tripped on the last step; ever since they’d had to replace the staircase and most of the second level balcony, the stair was just a little steeper than his legs expected on autopilot.
He cussed, scrambled to his feet, and got into the house, but the phone disconnected with a sharp click as he picked it up.
“Hmph,” he said. It probably wasn’t anything important. He only maintained a landline at all because of the restaurant—the combination meant they were on a cheaper phone plan than if they disconnected the house line. No one ever called on the residential line; both he and Andy had cellphones that they used for personal stuff. The only calls Scooter got to the landline tended to be cold sales c
