You give me any crap tonight and I’ll give you another concussion.” He was standing outside the screen door. I’d spent the rest of the afternoon lounging around the house, and the headache had finally subsided. I’d done some laundry and vacuuming and arranged to pick up Carly in the morning. I didn’t want her to be traumatized by Victor. I pushed open the door. “I promise to watch my step.” He looked pleased with that, as if he’d actually scared me. “Good, because I’d hate to have to hurt ...” “I meant I’d try not to catch you under my shoe.” The blood rushed to his face, and his face screwed up in anger. “Relax,” I said. “I’m kidding. We invited you. I’ll be on my semi-best behavior.” The anger slowly receded from his features, and he glanced around the living room. “Where’s your wife?” “She’ll be here shortly,” I told him. “She’s running late. You find anything out?” He smiled at me, but he looked more like Grumpy than Happy. “Yes.”
