Nobody even bothered to tell me that Mike was going away. Since the living room was still set up for basketball viewing, I assumed Penny and her crew would be coming over for the next game. Not until Mike brought his suitcase up from the garage did I suspect anything was amiss.
Then it began making sense. . . the Final Four was in Atlanta, Mike had said he was going soon to visit my grandma in Florida. Atlanta is on the way! Next thing I knew, Mike was on his way to the airport and Heather and I were on our own for even more days than the last time.
But the gang is still coming here to watch, because the TV in our living room is on a four-game winning streak. You don’t mess with karma. Personally, I lost interest in the tournament when the Zags tanked in the second round and trashed my bracket. From the glum faces I saw on Saturday night, apparently that game didn’t turn out any better. At least Penny and I had fun.
Frankly, I don’t understand why Mike would want to go away when our yard is about to go into maximum bloom. In case he doesn’t get back in time, I’m sending him a postcard.