“I’d say it’s time to batten down the hatches and get the rubber dinghies out, girls. The weather’s gone to shite.” “Says the genius running around in a storm for the last half a bleeding hour,” his mother quipped. “We’re on the orange alert for flooding, you know. Fourth one in a month.” “You know I’m no quitter, Ma,” Johnny shot back, holding up my shoe in triumph. Twisting in his seat to face me, he arched a brow and said, “Tip for next time we do this?” His tone was serious but his eyes danced with mischief as water dripped from his rain-flattened hair onto his forehead. “Keep your shoes
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