Racing through the parking lot, I dodge as many puddles as I can. I swear it started raining a month ago and hasn't let up. Even worse, it's muggy. Really muggy. But that's what early June in Houston is like every year. At least the rain is keeping the bugs away for now.
"Shit," I yell as I accidentally land right in a puddle. I look up and see Mari's elderly neighbors staring at me and my filthy mouth. "Sorry. I landed in a puddle."
The old man doesn't seem amused but the woman, I can tell she's trying not to grin.
Reaching Mari's door, I bang as quickly as I can. It's only eight in the morning, but we've spent a lot of time together over the last couple of months. I know their routine pretty well again, and I'm sure the kids are up by now. When the door opens revealing Mari still in her jammies, coffee cup in hand, my suspicions are confirmed.