“Eh,” the black-haired man grunted, tossing his briefcase onto a table suspended on a cloud. “Okay. Not as much fun as it used to be, when she’d close her eyes and floor it down the access road of the freeway. I got to move more than one semi out of the way. But now she won’t hardly drive any more.”
“Surely there are other challenges,” Gabriel said with the glimmer of a smile.
“Yeah, but not enough that she’s aware of to make her grateful. She’s enjoying too much comfort and ease, if you ask me. Getting whiny,” Sammy muttered, rifling through the briefcase. He withdrew a pocket calendar and notepad, both of paper, then shut the briefcase and put it under the table.
Gabriel nodded. “All right, then. Time to get her in shape for her departure. That’s coming soon, isn’t it?”