Chapter 39
I was debating whether to visit Amazon.com and see if Crack Babyhad picked up any new reviews when Jackson Ledbetter appeared in the kitchen wearing hip-hugging briefs and nothing else.
“Walking around in your undies?” I asked.
“It’s summer,” he explained.
“Call the Underwear Police!”
“Leave me alone!”
“Can naked breakfast be far behind?”
“Oh, please.”
He checked the bandage on my knee.
“I’m mad at you,” I said.
“I know.”
“Just so you do.”
His face looked a bit stricken.
“You should have just taken the damn test,” I said.
“I know my rights!”
“Bully for you!”
He made himself a cup of coffee.
“Haven’t seen you writing much lately,” he observed, changing the subject.
“I’m plot blocked.”
“Is that like being Koch-blocked?”
“Kind of,” I said.
“If you don’t stop posting crap about the Koch brothers on your Facebook page, I’m going to unfriend you. Honestly, who cares?”
“Spoken like a Republican!”