“We could just steal a suit.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me right. While you’re trying it on, I’ll create a diversion, and you can run out of the store.”
“Better yet, why don’t we steal the hearse? It’d be easier, and it would take care of both our problems at once.”
“Fantastic idea!” his father exclaimed. “All you’d have to do then is drive straight to the ocean.”
“That was a joke, Dad.”
“You’re right; it would be too risky. Plus, her idiot husband will probably be in it, and we can’t just throw him out the door while we’re driving. Though I’ll admit, the idea does have a certain appeal.”
They heard the Triumph’s wheels screech to a halt outside the house.
“Stay here,” Thomas ordered. “I have a slightly less crazy idea than the ones we’ve been discussing. I can’t promise anything, but I’ll do my best.”
He walked out the garage door to meet Lauren, who was just coming home from the hospital.
“Hard shift?” he asked.
“A little,” she replied. “Someone got a concussion at three o’clock in the morning. People drive like maniacs, and then, when things go wrong, it’s my job to fix them.”
“I see,” Thomas said with a glance at her car’s faintly smoking tires.
It was obvious that Lauren wanted to go inside, see her husband, and enjoy a little well-deserved rest, but Thomas didn’t budge from the doorway.
“Is there a problem?” she asked worriedly.
“This request will seem a little strange, but is there any chance you could rent me a suit?”
She looked at him in surprise.
“I know, it’s ridiculous. I forgot mine in Paris, and what I’m wearing isn’t really suitable for a funeral,” he explained, gesturing toward his jeans. “I would go buy one, but my budget’s pretty tight at the moment.”
“I see,” Lauren said. “I could ask Arthur to let you borrow one—no need to pay. You’re about the same size. He has several he never wears. Come with me.”
Lauren led the way to a room in which Arthur sat working at his architect’s desk. He stood up to welcome his wife and then noticed Thomas standing behind her.
Thomas smiled awkwardly as Lauren rifled through the room’s closet on the hunt for a suit.
“I prefer the blue one, but black seems best given the circumstances,” she said as she handed it over. “Do you need anything else?”
“A tie?” Thomas ventured, lowering his eyes to the floor in embarrassment.
Arthur watched the whole thing in amusement.
“What size shoe do you wear?” he asked Thomas as Lauren walked out of the room. “I can lend you some loafers, too, if you need them.”
“Size twelve, thank you. My father hates sneakers.”
“Is your father in town?”
“No, sorry, force of habit. My father’s been dead for a long time.”
Arthur walked to the door of the room and passed Lauren on her way back in, a tie in hand.
“I’m going to get a pair of shoes,” he said with a chuckle.
