Leo doesn’t seem to have a lot of experience with bringing groceries in from the car, but he manages to fake it and carry a few bags up the porch stairs. There’s a black Louis Vuitton rolling suitcase by the front door, along with a large white paper bag. “What’s all this?” “Oh, I had Weezie send me some stuff from my place. And she picked up lunch from Louise’s. You like lobster bisque?” “I don’t usually eat lunch. Why don’t I get this stuff put away and maybe you can go eat in the tea house?” “Sick of me already?” “A little,” I say. He gives me a playful salute and lugs his stuff out the
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