Our daily thunder and lightning storm sent a mildly hyperventilating Lou running to Buck’s dark cave. A loud boom, uncomfortably close, reminded me of the last storm like this, a few weeks ago. It fried our air conditioner’s circuit board, knocked out a phone system, a sound board, and various other electronic gizmos all over the house. The boom signaled the end of today’s weather festivities, and the house settled back down on this sleepy late July Gulf Coast afternoon
A little later, I peeked in at Buck, sitting in a circle of light at his desk, brow furrowed, writing on a yellow legal pad. Lou was under Buck’s writing table, nose resting on his shoes. I tried to slip away quietly, not wanting to disturb his thoughts mid-stream.
“What you need, babe?”
I sidled over. “Just a pat and a squeeze,” I said, slipping my arm around his neck.
“You got it.”
Man knows how to make my day.