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“Am I going to jail?”
“Yes, but we’re going to get chicken first.”
Five minutes later I was once again double-parked in front of the ER entrance. I left LeRoy cuffed in the back seat, and I ran in to check on Lula.
“How’s she doing?” I asked Louise.
“She’s okay,” Louise said. “She’s finally stopped asking for a Fudgsicle. She has a minor concussion. Nothing serious. She’s ready to be discharged.”
I got Lula out of the building and buckled into the front seat.
“Hello, handsome,” she said to LeRoy. “What’s your problem?”
“He’s FTA,” I said. “I picked him up while you were in the ER. He’s going for chicken with us.”
“What did he do?”
“Drunk and disorderly,” I said.
A loud sigh came out of the back seat.
Lula swiveled around and looked at him.
“I was stupid,” LeRoy said.
“I bet I got you beat,” Lula said. “I just got hit in the head by a drone.”
“I drank too much and passed out naked on my birthday cake,” LeRoy said.
“Did you face-plant?”
“I everything planted. It was a big sheet cake.”
“You win. Did you at least get to eat some of it?”
“I don’t think so. I can’t remember. They hosed me off before they locked me up.”
I swung into the drive-thru and ordered two buckets of chicken, two orders of biscuits with gravy, two extra-large sodas, and two apple pies.
“How come you’re not eating?” LeRoy asked me.
“I have a date later,” I said. “We’re going to the Mexican place b
y the hospital.”
Another sigh. “I ate there with my wife before she left me.”
“Why did your wife leave you?” Lula asked.
“I embarrassed her when I passed out on my cake.”
“That’s it?”
“It was at Chez Thomas. And I was naked. And then I punched the maître d’ in the face.”
“Sounds like a good time to me,” Lula said. “Any time you want to get naked and cover yourself with cake you just give me a call.”
“Really?”
