They hit a pothole and the book he’d just finished bounced off the back seat and onto the center console between their seats. Lucy picked it up.
“I started reading this on the way to the wedding dress store. I liked it.”
“Really?”
“Yes. The opening was very exciting.” She turned to him. “Tell me what happens.”
“Do you want to borrow it and read it for yourself?”
A surprised grin shaped her lovely mouth. “I would love to read it. Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“Not at all. Once you finish it we can have our own two-person book club and review it.”
“What does that mean? Have a book club and review it?”
“You know, get together and tell what we liked and didn’t like and then talk about all of our favorite parts.”
“That would be great. Thank you.”
“No problem. Dirk Crusher is my favorite character.”
Axel had memorized the address in Old Coot, Arkansas, where he was to drop off the boxes. It was not far from a rowdy biker bar he’d been to once before.
He drove along the quiet tree-lined street in an upscale residential area and looked around with interest. He’d assumed he was delivering to a small business. Ah, well. Perhaps someone ran a business out of their home. He parked in the driveway of a two-story traditional home. It was white with black shutters. Stairs led up to a large porch and the front door. He noticed the curtains moving in one of the front windows, as if someone had peeked out.
Axel and Lucy got out of the truck. She looked steadier on her feet and seemed to be testing her ability to walk without help. Together they headed to the front door. There was another flick of the curtains and Axel rang the doorbell.
He stared at an ugly troll yard ornament sitting in the woebegone flowerbed.
“Hello, welcome,” said a very familiar voice. “Are you the delivery folks?”
Axel turned his head as his mouth fell open. The tire guy from Alienn looked just as surprised to see him. The older man’s cheeks turned pink.
“Ed? What are you doing here?”
From inside the house, he heard Aunt Dixie call out, “Is it the delivery? Are they here with the product?”
Ed looked like he’d rather be boiled in oil than answer, but called over his shoulder, “Yes, the delivery people are here.”
“Tell them to put the boxes in the garage.”
“You’ll never guess who’s delivering today,” Ed said, giving Axel an uncomfortable look with a matching uncomfortable smile.
“I don’t care who—wait…it’s not Diesel, is it?” Aunt Dixie stepped into the doorway next to Ed. She saw Axel and said a bad word.
“What are you doing here, Aunt Dixie?” he felt compelled to asked, ignoring the vulgar word she’d just spouted.
She crossed her bony arms defiantly. “I’m working on a project to raise money for the old folks’ home, of course. What are you doing here, Axel? I specifically asked for Henry to make the delivery.”
“Henry is sick. He asked me to take care of the delivery as a favor.”
“Drat,” she said. “Sick, my patootie. This is his idea of a joke.”
“I’m guessing that if Diesel doesn’t know, you don’t want him to know and that you think he wouldn’t approve.”
She lifted her shoulders in an exaggerated shrug. “Maybe. Maybe not. Who can know for sure what that boy thinks?” Aunt Dixie glanced at Lucy as if noticing her for the first time. “Who are you, young lady?”
“I’m Lucy.” She extended her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
