Cels herself was wearing a pair of polka dot pajama shorts and a cotton Detroit Lions t-shirt. What? She couldn't help her loyalties, when the gates had closed the Lions had been a damned good team. She wasn't about to abandon ship because they'd had a bad decade. She scowled at her brother's request, but waved her hand in agreement. "Commodore!" she called. "Do you want to go for a ride in the car?" There wasn't a lot in this world that made that ancient dog run the way he had when he was a puppy, but that did it. He beat Cels to the door.
Cels grabbed her purse from a peg by the door, and a pair of discarded flip-flops from the landing. As far as Cels was concerned, 'by the door' was the most logical place to leave shoes and car keys, and in times like this? That logic became bulletproof. Maybe she'd have to start leaving an emergency bra in her glove box. Hm. "Come on, Odin, bus is leaving."