My car hurled after the black Beemer, but my heart wasn’t in it. I was too late. The cars were too similar, and the driver’s error was too much fo... my car to overcome. It wasn’t really that the impromptu street race meant so much. It was an expression for my week. I rolled up to the stoplight clearly bested by the import. A few fingers waved a salute as the car turned the corner, leaving me to finish my drive in moody solitude. Luckily, there wasn’t much left. A lost race was enough to sore my. After lots of good natured bargaining it was decided that Peter and Dorthy would pick up Jean at 2 PM next Sunday. Jean immediately grabbed Martha and grilled her about what she should pack.That night Peter slept alone, he knew he would be a busy guy with that Jean for two weeks, but he had already worked out a list of “A”: customers he planned on turning her loose on. As he went to sleep his last thoughts were ... small towners see if they can keep up with that crazy bitch... Peter had talked. More

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