Unfit to Practice (2003)
“Then the rest of him slid out and straightened up. Not one drop spilled, not that the asphalt of the Starlake Building parking lot would have suffered. The air had that peculiar late-summer Sierra quality of being both crisp and warm at the same time. He checked his watch, saw that it was one minute to nine, and leaned back against the car, planning to spend the entirety of that minute with his face turned to the sun and his eyes closed.
A large indeterminate-model brown car—who made brown cars... and why did anyone buy them?—pulled up sedately beside him. Wish Whitefeather was in the driver's seat and Sandy sat in the passenger's seat, spine straight, purse in her lap. Paul saw with a small start that both Wish and his mother had the same profile, strong brow ridge and nose, beetling brows. As Wish turned off the ignition, they both turned toward him. Sandy said, “It's you.”
Paul bowed and opened the door for her. “And how is my favorite Washoe maiden?” he said.
“Don't think that's gonna gain you any points.”MoreLess
A large indeterminate-model brown car—who made brown cars... and why did anyone buy them?—pulled up sedately beside him. Wish Whitefeather was in the driver's seat and Sandy sat in the passenger's seat, spine straight, purse in her lap. Paul saw with a small start that both Wish and his mother had the same profile, strong brow ridge and nose, beetling brows. As Wish turned off the ignition, they both turned toward him. Sandy said, “It's you.”
Paul bowed and opened the door for her. “And how is my favorite Washoe maiden?” he said.
“Don't think that's gonna gain you any points.”MoreLess
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