Frank and Sally did show up. But in a rather unexpected way. Since they had given the car back to the neighbor, and a buses didn’t go very close by to the Laveau residence because of how out of the way it was, they had to go by bike. And since Sally didn’t trust her legs not to fall off and get caught in the wheels, she scooched herself into a basket that she usually used for the grocery shopping, which was attached to the handlebars of the bike. Frank was the one that was doing all of the peddling, his knees coming up and hitting his elbows constantly. And it didn’t help that his mother made him wear a dorky red helmet for safety, while donning one herself.
But they would make it there.
Just a little more bruised than he had been when he left.
The estate of the Laveaus was huge, but the main driveway made a good enough path up to the house. Sally was in awe of everything, looking at the trees, looking at the cars, looking at the exterior of the house and all that came with it. All of the decoration. She was growing inspired just looking at it.
“Wow,” She said, but Frank wasn’t one to grow distracted easily. He took off the stupid helmet, put it in the basket and went to the front door. He knocked once, and then a second time, in case the first wasn’t heard.
Another doorframe he was almost the size of, he noticed.