But this Thursday was a little different in that he wouldn’t be driving back. He was awakened by the knock on his door, and when he opened it, a thin woman with severe blond hair dropped a gear bag at his feet. “What are you, about a forty, forty long?” she said instead of hello. “Huh?” said Mike. “Jacket size.” “Yeah, a forty.” “Yeah; me, too,” she said. “Thirty-eight actually, but I like shoulder pads. I have to have the waist taken in a little, too.” “Okay,” said Mike. “I’m Jane. I’m going to be your new sister.” Mike shook her hand. “You wanna come in?” “No, gotta go. I’m on the catch team. There’s motocross leathers in there. Not really leather, though, some kind of bulletproof fabric. They were my brother’s. Should fit you.
