Chapter 8
“He’s five, I think,” she said. “Maybe closer to six.”
“That’s about right,” Doc Jenkins said. “He was one of the last babies I delivered before I started to slow down, and that was close to six years ago.”
“We’ll need to make a run to Walmart and get him some clothes,” I said. “He can’t run around in one of our old T-shirts all the time.”
“Let me take care of that, George,” Martha said. “I’ll take a look at him to make sure I get the right sizes.”
“Great,” I said. “I don’t want to leave right now in case he wakes up. He got really panicky every time I tried to leave the room.”
“I noticed that,” Doc Jenkins said. “That boy has somehow bonded with you.”
“George and Mike have a way with kids,” Lucinda said. “Zeb and Zeke look on them as fathers, and deservedly so.”
“Where are the twins, anyway?” Doc Jenkins said.