“What about my head?” he asked. “Did I hit my head?”
“Yeah, lots of times. All the way down.”
“I could have a concussion.”
He stood and swayed back and forth. “Am I swaying?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“That’s good because I’m trying to sway.”
I looked around. “Do you have a car here?”
“No. I had my friend Morgan drop me off. I thought I’d be going in your car, being that I’m protecting you.”
“Wrong.”
“Here, look at this. I’m walking. And I’m talking. I was afraid I might black out. I did that once at the dentist office. And while I was out, I peed my pants.”
“You aren’t going to do that now, are you?”
“I don’t think so, but I might be a little dizzy. I’ll feel better when I get to your car and I can sit down.”
I was doomed. I was never going to be rid of him. This is what happens when you try to be nice. You find out your ex-boyfriend has a new girlfriend and you get stuck with George Potts.
“Get into the backseat,” I said. “I’ll drive you home.”
“You can’t do that. I’m supposed to be with you. I took an oath.”
I looked at him in my rearview mirror. “An oath?”
“Yes. An oath to protect you. It was a blood oath, too. I stuck my finger with a pin and swore to protect you.” He shivered. “Bad things happen to you if you break an oath.”
“I really don’t need protecting,” I said.
“Of course, you need protecting. Social media says you’re a hot mess. Who are you meeting? I know it isn’t a date because you said you were going to work. It might be awkw
ard to bring me along on a date, but I could be useful on a work assignment. I have excellent powers of observation. And besides, I won’t get out of your car if you take me home. I’ll kick and scream until I have an asthma attack. Did I mention I sometimes have asthma attacks?”
No surprise there. Why leave out asthma from his many ailments.
“Okay. Fine. Have it your way. I’ll take you with me, but you have to not move from the backseat, and no talking.”
“No problem. My lips are sealed. Look what I’m doing. I’m zipping my lips. Zip! Did you see that? Did you see me zip my lips?”
I told myself to relax my grip on the wheel and stay calm. Lula and I would cruise Stark Street, talk to a couple of women about Shine, and go home. Easy peasy.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Lula was waiting on the sidewalk in front of her house.
“What’s going on?” she asked, getting in and buckling up. “Is that the pooper in the backseat?”
I looked at Potts and he made a zipper motion across his mouth.
“It’s George Potts,” I said. “He’s riding with us. It’s a long story, not worth telling. Are we going to Stark Street?”
“I’m thinking we start at the train station. A couple of the girls hang out for the late commuters. They’re usually on Grimly Street.”