THERE WAS A SMALL FIRE AT THE FABRIC BARN LAST NIGHT, SO Renee has three days off while they clean up the mess. With all that time on her hands, she’s as frisky as a kid sent home from school after a bomb threat. She tried to organize a shopping trip first thing, but I told her to go it alone, thinking I should stay near the phone in case Leonard called.
He didn’t, of course.
Not so far, anyway, and it’s almost four o’clock.
This makes two days and counting.
Fuck him. Just fuck him.