“Oh, no—Sy,” I cry, cutting Loretta off. “You can’t leave him in the Jeep. Bring him up.” Caleb has his nose buried inside my coffee table book: Florida’s Seashells: A Beachcomber’s Guide. “It’s okay,” he replies, closing the heavy book and tossing it down. “I dropped him off when I brought up your backpack.” “Dropped him off?” “Didn’t this grumpus tell you?” Loretta laughs. I glance between him and Loretta. “Tell me what?” Caleb crosses over to me. “I’m your new neighbor, Doc.” My heart skips a beat. “Neighbor?” “Yep, he’s right next door in unit 403,” calls Loretta. “Why else do you think I
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