This isn’t good, I think, dropping my shovel. It hits the ground with a thud, and I have to will my eyes not to follow because if they do the girl’s eyes will too.
“Your husband called,” she says, and she squints because of the afternoon sun and maybe the weather gods are on my side.
I quickly realize the blinding sun is not enough and through labored breath, I begin panting. “My inhaler,” I huff, and I point toward the house. I watch as she looks around, she’s confused, and so I turn up the heat. I suck in and hold my breath until I can feel myself turning blue. The girl panics and it’s a good thing. I wasn’t really in danger because let me tell you, she needs to be the last person you call next time. This one clearly isn’t very bright. Thank god for small favors.
“In the kitchen, in t
