Re: Loggything: Penny and Clementine
Clem had borrowed a car that was a mid-life crisis. Bright red, convertible, and she didn't know anyone still bought Corvettes. It was old though, shiny as an apple and real cared for, but old. It took corners like a dream, even in New York traffic, and Clem hadn't driven any recent. It was nice, the night wind in her hair, and she wasn't feeling bad after the hotel's night of playing games. She had a real fine evening, and she met someone nice on account. Jake wasn't hurt, and neither was Graham, and even selling that damn tri-level had led to some good talking with Shane.
But she pulled up next to that bench, and she figured Penny wasn't having anywhere near as good a night. Top down, she idled. "You need help getting yourself in here, darlin?'"
Now, Clem looked different some than the last time Penny'd clapped eyes on her, young and wild, brown hair and a baby in her arms. She was a good bit older, and blonde like she'd been since Lore passed. Settled in her own skin, and dressed in FDNY blues, her hand on the gearshift.