That settled, Mr. McMahan helped me carry the trash bags out to my truck."Do you know the way to Goodwill?" Ms. Dickens asked."I was just going to ask...if you would point the way," I said, sneaking a peek at Ms. Kindle. She grinned, smugly.Mr. McMahan wanted to know what he should do while I was gone. I ask him to start clearing the stuff out of the basement. "I'll help you sort what goes in the dumpster and what we can sell when I get back," I said.Ms. Dickens gave me the directions to. I had been on a roll writing and was trying to live up to the productivity of my hero Michael Loucks.I had just swallowed my next mouthful of Irish Death Ale when they came to my booth.“Excuses me. We hate to bother you, but we need you to settle a bet for us,” the redhead said.“Ok. Why me and not your guys over there?” I wasn’t wanting to start a fight.“They are our husbands and they are way too biased for what we need to know,” the blonde answered.“Ok. How can I help you?” I was. More

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