At the Garrisons’ front door, under the porch light, Jeff did not kiss me goodnight. He brushed my arm lightly, and winked an eye at me. “I knew you’d be fun,” he said. “I knew if I ever got you away from Mattie, you’d be fun.” “Am I?” “Yes.” “Goodnight, Jeff Stallings. I had a wonderful time.” “Goodnight, Tangy Quinn. I did, too.”
