“Shouldn’t we know a little more about Mr. Hershel before we invade his privacy?” Charles asked quietly. His tone of voice clearly indicated he did not like it when one of the group made a decision without first consulting him.

“Of course we should, and that’s what Ted and I are doing right now,” Maggie said. She muttered as she clicked away. “A creature of habit. Set in his ways. Rich.”

“I’d like to revise that to extremely rich,” Ted said. “He doesn’t own a car. He stays close to home. If he wants to go somewhere, he calls an Uber. He pretty much lives on his front porch.”

“Where are you getting all that?” Dennis called from the driver’s seat as he put on his signal to turn into the Pancake House parking lot.

“The Happy Village once-a-week newsletter,” Maggie shot back. “He dresses like a bum. Said clothes do not make him a man. He was a man to start with. Guess he has a bit of a sense of humor. Ah, food! I am so hungry.” Maggie was always hungry. It didn’t matter the day of the week or the hour of the day. She could always eat because of what she called her whacked-out metabolism.

Exactly eight minutes later, Dennis said, “I’ll park in the back.” He reached for bag after bag after bag of delicious-smelling food and handed them over his shoulder to whomever could reach them.

Thirty minutes later, their trash cleaned up, they waited for Cyrus to finish his business before Dennis put the van in gear. “Next stop, Happy Village. Our ETA is twenty minutes, possibly thirty-five if this fog doesn’t lift.”

The gang settled down for the short ride, each of them busy with their own thoughts.

Jack found himself dozing off just as his cell phone buzzed. He groaned out loud, shaking everyone from their thoughts. “It’s Harry!”

Jack read the text and whistled. “Harry’s boys are okay with going with the pillows! That’s it. He didn’t write another word. Now what the hell do we do? I don’t know anything about the pillow business.”

“This is where you call Lizzie and turn it all over to her,” Maggie said. “She’ll know how to proceed. I might be wrong about this, but I think Harry’s boys only have four or five days left on their visas. They have to go back home. I miss Harry.” All this was said as she continued to tap furiously on the tiny keyboard.

“Anything for Harry, right, guys?” Everyone ignored the comment except Cyrus, who woofed three times to show he agreed with his master as Jack sent off a text to Lizzie Fox.

* * *