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Michael Malone - Weebly

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Ransom tried to pinpoint when it was that Lance had<br />

begun, uninvited, to address him as "Ern."<br />

"Nope, thought I'd drop by town first. Seen Dad?<br />

How's he taking it?"<br />

"Lance. Really, I think it would be better if you—"<br />

"Okay, okay, I'll go over to the office. Wouldn't<br />

mind putting it off though. It's going to be rough, you<br />

know what I mean?"<br />

"For Winslow, yes, I expect it will." Ransom was<br />

annoyed.<br />

Lance's unfocused vitality (he almost shadowboxed<br />

as he stood there) rasped the banker's composure.<br />

"Rough on a guy to see his folks fall apart. Gets to<br />

you. Well, see you around, I'm just here to bounce a<br />

check."<br />

The banker lent him a smile. He watched this young<br />

man, this embodied cigarette ad, stride up to the young<br />

female teller with a grin. Tanned and tall in a whiteribbed<br />

sweater and white pleated trousers, Lance<br />

needed only surf and sand to lope along while he<br />

inhaled some satisfying smoke in order to look as if he<br />

had been cut out of a glossy magazine and pinned

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