My tummy is too shaky the next morning to eat breakfast, although Willa urges me to try some buttered toast and milk.
I dress carefully in my Sunday best. Then Granny, Billy, and me pile into Uncle Abe"s big car and start off for the courthouse.
Uncle Abe is a terrible driver even though at a hundred years old, you"d think he"d had lots of practice time. He sits on top of a stack of old phone books so he can see out the windshield, and the pedals have blocks of wood tied to them so his short feet can reach.
"Watch out," Billy yelps when the tires bump off the side of the road.
"Egad, boy. I"ve been a-driving since before you was born." Abe grumbles.
"A wagon is more likely what you were driving. Hold on, there"s a car coming "round that bend."
I"m gonna puke with the fear of an accid
