“What? She heard it again. "Oh Polly! Get up!" What in the world? She looked at the clock beside her bed. It was eight o'clock. EIGHT O'CLOCK! Henry was going to be here this morning to check out the floor and she was still in bed. "Polly!" "I'm up! I'm up," she shouted out the door. "You're not really up. Get up!" Could she live without a shower this morning? Damn. She couldn't think straight. She shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs, then sat straight up in bed. She threw the blankets b...ack and dropped her legs over the side of the bed and tried to think. It was Saturday morning, she'd come home in a foul mood last night, but then had stayed up much too late with Doug and Billy's friends. They'd even talked her into baking for them. Bunch of mooches. Then, at some point, she'd left them to their noise and come upstairs. That had to have been ... right after one o'clock. She'd known it was a mistake then and now she was sure it had been a mistake. Who knew she could be so fuzzy with no alcohol in her system.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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