“It wasn’t the frost on the windows, have-a-cup-of-buttered-rum sort of Christmas that Norman Rockwell had painted, but even with the palm trees and blue skies and weather that barely qualified for the term nippy, the air still held a subtle holiday vibration. Jessie shut the door of the Mustang and stepped up on the sidewalk, digging in her purse for change for the meter. Feeling a mixture of guilt and defiance, she fed quarters into the slot. As near as she could tell, Matt thought parking... meters were an invention of the devil or maybe part of some plot by alien agents to take over the planet. He would rather park two blocks from his destination than sacrifice a dime to pay for parking. She found the irrational little quirk perversely satisfying. He was usually so rational, so logical. It was nice to know that he could be just as nuts as the rest of the world. Not that he saw it as nuts, but any man who could do a five-minute riff on the economic evils of parking meters was definitely a few bubbles off of full plumb.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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