doctor told him to stop.
I touched the steering wheel.
For a moment, I could almost hear him telling me to stop wasting daylight.
The windshield began to fog.
I hadn’t realized I was crying.
Eventually, I started the engine.
It caught almost immediately.
I unplugged the block heater, carefully coiled the cord the way Dad always had, and drove the truck eleven miles to my place near Elba.
I didn’t move the gloves.
I couldn’t.
Theresa came outside when I parked beside our barn.
She looked at the truck.
