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Updated: May 11, 2025
"Bad to the bone," Oliver said. He reached down for her coffee and handed it to her. "Some bones," he said. He sat on the log and shook his head. "Damn . . ." They were quiet for a minute. "When are you leaving?" "In three or four weeks. I'm going to drive out, bring as much as I can with me. I've got to get a better car something that will pull a small U-Haul trailer and hold up."
She told him funny stories about Harley, who ran the local U-Haul franchise and was forever hitting on her for a date. She liked Harley. "He can fix anything." He was a Fundamentalist in good standing. "If they can put up with Harley, they can put up with me," she said. Their relationship remained intensely physical.
Jennifer said. "Huh?" "I have a lot of books." "More shelves," Oliver said. "I'll help you with the books." "We'll need boxes." "I'll get some tomorrow at the U-Haul place." "Rupert will be gone after nine." "I don't care," Oliver said. "It just makes things smoother," she said. By late afternoon the next day, they had carried the last load into the apartment. The living room was full of boxes.
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