When Jacy joined them downstairs and about opening the door on the Ford SUV to sit with Ken in the front, Ken rebuked her, “Impossible. It can’t happen. Sit at the back. My son sits with me in the front.”

Jacy paused, raised a brow, pouted her lips in disappointment, stared at Blueeyes who winked at her to let go and do his bidding.

The door on the back had slammed – she had hopped into the back of the car.

“Where do we do, son?” ken asked calmly, gazing at ...