“—but I haven’t the strength at this time to quarrel with you.”
“Good.” While I was still on my knees, I reached under the bed and dragged out her suitcase before rising to my feet. “I’ll pack for you.” I swung the suitcase beside mine.
“You didn’t let me finish, Dante. I can see how good you two are together.”
“What?”
“When Dr. Autry—Micajah—arrived here, we were able to chat for quite a while.”
“Huh?” How long had they been talking on the front porch?
She rose and came to me, then cupped my chin. “He thinks very highly of you. And you—”
“Me?”
“Oh, Dante, did you even realize how much you talked about your Dr. Autry?”
“What are you talking about? He only covered that one lecture.” And I’d missed most of it, either having been passed out on the floor or been in the toilets. And what did she mean “mine”? Distracted, I unzipped her suitcase and began filling it.
“Oh, my son. You talked about him more than you know.”