“Well, it all sort of cleared itself up,” I said. “I’m sorry about Kelly.”
His face softened for a second. “Thanks, Kavanaugh.” He spotted the box of doughnuts and Bitsy and Joel in the staff room. “Doughnuts? Really? I don’t think I can deal with this. It’s way too clean-cut for me.” He started backing up. “Oh, by the way, my mother wants you to come by. Said something about a date with Napoleon.” He frowned. “Sometimes I just can’t figure out what she’s talking about anymore, but she swears you know what it means.”
I laughed. “Yeah, I do. And tell her I’ll call her next week. But she’s going to have to come here.”
“She won’t like that. And you won’t be able to change her mind.”
Maybe not. But maybe if I promised her a ride in a gondola she might.
Jeff gave me a little punch on the arm. “It’s been real. Later, Kavanaugh.”
I watched through the glass doors as he walked along the canal and across the footbridge and out of sight.
Napoleon. Now that would be a nice leg tat.
Karen E. Olson
