She nodded, as if that made perfect sense. “I got a lot of junk. My late husband, Herb, he was a collector. Of things . Said every piece of crap had a story.”
“Perfect,” Leo muttered, thumping the steering wheel. enough ass for two
He ignored it. Marge was the kind of ex who called not to say sorry, but to explain why he was the one who should be sorry. He’d rather deal with the truck’s failing transmission. She nodded, as if that made perfect sense