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Occasionally I would catch a glimpse of someone looking out the living room window at me, and I wondered who it was. After I stored them, Jo asked me if I were ok, and explained that she would have never guessed that I could manage them so easily. Of course they weren't as manageable as I made it seem. Handing me a glass of iced tea, she walked around behind me and started to rub my shoulders. I repressed a groan as the tenseness and ache started to subside. My shoulders were killing me from the long duck walk with each awkward box. She laughed lightly, patting me on the back, and I mentioned that she better stop or I'd never get the other load. "For now" she replied. The second trip was uneventful, and the store clerk explained that Jo used the glass for some sort of shelving or display systems she sold. My curiosity was satisfied, and I drove back. After arriving, I began to unload the truck. As I was walking toward the stairs, I heard Jo and Marie's whispering voices. "I don't. I’m used to getting beat up. Especially, by girls. I’ll tell you about the time that the JV cheerleaders beat me up and threw me in the dumpster, sometime.”She smiled bigger (which is, I know, not anywhere near correct usage, but I liked the way it sounded. I promise not to do it again) and laughed a short but real laugh.With that respite done, though, she then started to cry again in silent tears that ran down her cheeks. Her face returned to its nest against my shoulder. I held her tightly against me.“Ken,” At the sound of her voice, I glanced back over at Sherry. “We’ll talk again later. Me and you. Just take care of her. Okay?”I nodded my head and held Jenny next to me as Sherry found her own way to the door. As Jenny continued crying, I just held her tight. Talking didn’t seem right at the moment. Holding did feel right. She cried until sleep overcame her.I quickly followed her into sleep. We dozed together on the coach, each other’s body acting to prop the other’s up, but.
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