celwriter: I appreciate all of the reviews I got, so here is the next chapter without delay.
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Chapter 11

"Yes?" Sheriff Kleany said in response to the knock on the door. Cel slowly pushed it open.

"Hi, I'm Celeste Rainey." Cel gazed around the office. Sheriff Kleany's desk could be seen from the doorway and there was a small shelf on the right full of driving manuals.

"Rainey?" Tom was confused. "Are you related to Morton Rainey?"

"Yes, I'm his daughter."

"Well, what can I do for you, Celeste?" Sheriff Kleany asked.

"I was wondering how to apply for my permit. I just turned fifteen and my father says that it's okay with him." She looked at Tom. "I'm sorry if I interrupted something."

"No, not at all. Tom was just leave, weren't you Tom?" Tom looked at the sheriff and decided that arguing would not help his case.

"Yes, I was." Tom gave in. "Nice to see you, Miss Rainey. Goodday, Mr. Kleany." He left and Cel relaxed. Cel had meant to get her permit a little later, but now was a good a time as ever. She spoke with the sheriff about the permit, picked up a study guide of a nearby shelf, and went outside.

Mort was waiting for her when she came out. He was leaning on his car, thinking that it would not have taken Cel so long.

"So, what did you have to do?" Mort asked.

"I talked to Mr. Kleany about getting my driver's permit." Cel held up the instruction guide.

"Your driver's permit?" Mort asked.

"Yes, I figured that I might as well pick up a driver's guide while we're in town."

"Anything else that you need to do while you're in town?" Mort asked sarcastically.

"No, not really," Cel replied. She wasn't going to worry her father with what she heard Tom say.

"Then let's get agoin', shall we?" Mort said as he hoped into the car. He was thinking about his story which he planned to work on when he got home.

The drive home was rather uneventful except when Cel changed the radio station during his favorite song. They pulled into the driveway and Mort rushed upstairs to work on his story. Cel headed for the closet with the hat; she knew that she had to do something to remind Shooter that he only had two more days before he reminded her.
* * * Celwriter: no, i do not know the age that people get their permits in New York, so please don't chide me.