Buck pulled a photo of Chloe from his wallet. “Start here,” he said. He finally had Ernie’s attention. He studied the picture, turning it toward the battery-powered lights. “Wow,” he said. “Your daughter?” “She’s twenty-two. To be her dad I’d have to be at least forty.” “So?” “I’m thirty-two,” he said,
And that’s still weird Buck. Take a hint.
