Chapter 159

So he’d flown with his mother back to New York, and he would drive the Studebaker home. He probably wouldn’t drive it much around town—it was more of a gas hog than Scooter’s truck, and its antique status meant it shouldn’t be exposed to the hazards of the road more than necessary. But Andy couldn’t stand the thought of just having it shipped back, even if he couldn’t quite articulate the reason why.

Hopefully, if this interview went well, he’d be home in time to go to Jason’s annual birthday trip to Busch Gardens.

He checked the clock on the wall: five ‘til.

“Stop fidgeting, darling. It’s a bad habit,” Eleanor chided gently.

Andy muttered some more and forcibly stilled his hands and feet. “I’m twenty-five, you know, Mom.”

“Are you sure, dear? You sounded about eight there for a moment.”