Chapter Thirteen––––––––
Trunk burst through the door as if he were a bulldozer. Carla was putting away clean glasses and looked up when he entered.
“You won’t believe it. I found the perfect house.”
His face was animated, bright, his smile broad. His body seemed to be fueled by kinetic energy, as he couldn’t stand still. He paced, he hopped, he jumped, and then plunked his palms down on the bar and leaned over.
“Perfect?” she asked, maintaining her cool.
“Ideal. Perfect. Will you come see it?”
“Why is it perfect?’
“It’s small, stone, real old. Like a couple hundred years. It’s beautiful. And it’s got fifty acres, and a barn. And there’s a chicken coop too. So, will you?”
She grinned at him. Big Al the defensive machine was gone, replaced by eight year old Al with a new toy. “Sure.
