“Please,” the car rental clerk said, trying again. “The fire department tore out their truck’s oil pan on a low water bridge.”
Elizabeth glowered at him in confusion, wondering if she was the object of some joke. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Took your SUV responding to a brush fire two counties over.” His spheroid belly tugged at his faded red polo shirt, stretching the embroidered Earl’s Rentals logo to twice its normal size. “I’m truly sorry.”
“Earl,” She said, delighting when he drew back, startled that she had somehow intuited his name. “I don’t want sorry. I want the SUV I was promised.”
“The Corolla’s the only car we got.”
“What about that one?” Elizabeth said, pointing to a Jeep Grand Cherokee .
“Oh, I’m sorry, but that’s my personal car.” He said.
Elizabeth didn’t reply, but simply held out her hand for the keys.
Stacked-Up Book Thoughts: Spring Reading - Spring has definitely sprung in central Pennsylvania! Thanks to a changing climate, everything is blooming at the same moment: forsythia, tulips, forget-me...