After Peg stamped the due date in the backs of my two books and offered his declaration about me being weirder than Morty Lawson, I gathered the crew up to head out so Miss Jones could lock the doors. As soon as we rounded the corner, a familiar face was there waiting as he had started doing most every Tuesday in the past few weeks. And like most every Tuesday, my heart took off in a happy dance. A brown bag in hand, Vance scanned the parking lot before meeting us by the limo.

“Hey, Vance.” Boss welcomed first as always.

“Hey, there.” Vance was surrounded at once, each kid eager to accept his ever-present treat. With packs of M&M’S in hand, they piled into the limo.

Not a one of them ever called shotgun, always wanting to ride in the back and pretend to be famous folks being chauffeured around. Except Peg. He just didn’t want to be seen riding around in the funeral home limo, so he hid in the back. Fine by me. I liked having the radio to myself and pretending I was alone.

I knew not to linger with chores and supper preparation waiting to be done at the farm, but I dragged a little when climbing into the driver’s seat. I cranked the car and pressed the button to send the window down. The Silver Bullet did have its perks, like automatic windows and seats, so there was that. I glanced at the dashboard clock to make sure I still had a little bit of time before the day care closed.

Vance looked both ways before leaning into my open window, a mischievous grin tilting his lips as he passed me a pack of Razzles. The handsome devil smelled like he’d already eaten an entire pack. He stuck his blue tongue out to confirm my suspicions.

“Why’s Ox get Razzles instead of M&M’S like the rest of us?” Peg complained with an edge of sourness.

Vance looked at him over my shoulder. “The chauffeur deserves something special for having to put up with you.” He was good at dishing out whatever attitude Peg liked to serve him.

One stubborn curl loved to wiggle free from the others and rest against his forehead. I’d stared at it for years but something struck me today to finally tuck it back into place. It was soft and slightly damp from the humidity. His eyes lit up and that boyish grin stretched to full capacity.

“You just couldn’t stand it any longer, could ya?” Vance’s dimples made a show.

I rolled my eyes, playing it off. “That curl aggravates me.”

“Use that as an excuse all you want. I don’t mind you touching me. And if my messy hair is the ticket to more of that happening, then I’ll be tossing my comb.”