I drove to Cooper’s to meet Glenn. I’d never been to his home and had no idea where he lived. In my imagination, it was something like the Bat Cave, but with more booze and Commissioner Gordon potentially buried in the backyard.
Glenn was already waiting for me in his massive gray pickup, like a bear tucked in a mountain cave. Yep, a Bear Cave, not a Bat Cave. I locked up before jogging across the parking lot, dodging a light rain.
He almost smiled as I hung onto the oh-s**t bar to ascend the metal monstrosity and fell awkwardly onto the bench seat, saying, “Watching you climb in my vehicle is one of those wonderful things that never gets old.”
“Like me?” I asked, aware that I was directly contradicting what I’d intimated about my age last night. Optimism born of action had helped me re
