Teddy muttered to himself, slapping the rim of the steering wheel in frustration. “Brilliant. Because now it’s tomorrow, genius.” It was tomorrow, noon already, and he still hadn’t made a decision. And Ginny would be here soon, expecting an answer. He got out of his car and checked the parking lot out of habit: an old beater Ford he didn’t recognize, but otherwise empty, and the trash bins had been emptied last night, the lids left open. All was as it should be. There was an entrance into the back of the bar off the parking lot, but Teddy instead went around the building and leaned against the front wall, waiting for Ginny to walk down the street, her stride probably hampered by Georgie’s slower pace and constant need to stick her doggy nose into something. He didn’t know why he was even dithering; he knew how this was going to go down. There would be that look on her face, the one that said she knew something he didn’t and was going to tell him about it. And, in the telling, change his mind.
