Chapter 8

"The bookmobile is all yours when you're ready," I told Isabella, "but feel free to have another slice of ginger cake."

"No, no, I couldn't."

"It's calorie-free..." I told her in a sing-song voice.

Her jaw dropped. "There's no way!"

Boxy strolled in from the garage then, even though he hadn't been in there ten seconds ago. That wasn't what made me do a double-take though; Boxy had changed. A lot. He'd ridded himself of the railroad cap and overalls and now wore a crisp white button-down tucked into black dress pants. He'd slicked his silver hair over the bald spot the cap usually covered, and he'd traded his everyday cane for the silver and gold-scaled dragon head one. He even wore spicy cologne.

I whistled. "Dapper Boxy is dapper. Well done."

Ignoring me, Boxy caned his way to Ms. Stevenson with a shy smile on his face. "Good to see you, Isabella."