“Did you know him?”
“A little. I’ve always been a fan, and I took one of his classes over the summer.”
“How did he die?”
I scanned through the brief article. “It doesn’t say. Just that his wife came home from visiting a family member and found him. Oh, that poor woman. How awful.”
“I bet it was a heart attack,” Grandma said. “With the men, it’s always a heart attack.”
“Who had a heart attack?” Maury asked, his gravelly voice booming across the room.
“Not you, obviously,” Grandma fired back.
“Don’t you wish.”
“Don’t worry, Maury, I’ll be sure to wear red to your funeral.”
He chuckled and waved a hand at her. “I’ve got a suit picked out for yours, Colleen. With a pink tie.”
She gasped. “You wouldn’t.”
“Your least favorite color.” He wagged a finger at her. “Don’t think I won’t remember.”
She clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes.
“You two are terrible,” I said with a little giggle.
“When you get as old as we are, you either joke about death, or you start to long for it. I’d rather go out laughing.”
“That’s oddly wise.” I glanced at the paper. “Hopefully Edwin Morris went out laughing.”
CHAPTER 5
Penelope
Sunlight was startingto filter through the kitchen window while I waited for my morning tea to steep. Absently, I dunked the tea bag a few times, my mind wandering to the day ahead.
I was working with the freshmen and sophomores on sketching on paper with charcoal pencil, and we’d be moving into shading. It would mean a lot of gray fingerprints all over my classroom before the day was done.
Glancing down at my outfit, I wondered if I should change. I’d put on an off-white blouse and tan slacks. Not that the students would touch me, but I had a feeling I’d wind up with charcoal smudges everywhere anyway—most of them my own doing.
If I was being honest, I wasn’t a neat artist.
I went to the bedroom to change, opting for a black shirt and dark gray pants. Problem solved.
Sean was still in the shower, and I wondered if he’d want to bring lunch to work. I decided to pack him some of the cranberry walnut chicken salad I’d meal prepped the nightbefore. Hopefully he’d eat it instead of going out for fast food with his buddies.
I sipped my tea as I packed our lunches. Sean came out not long after, his short hair damp and his mustache trimmed. He grabbed his half-empty mug, dumped out the cold coffee, and poured a fresh cup from the coffee maker.
“I packed a lunch for you if you want it.” I held up the bag. “Just please bring the container back.”
He grunted. I wasn’t sure if that meant yes or no, so I set it on the counter. When he took his coffee to the table and sat, I grabbed my tea and joined him.
He took a drink of his coffee, and I sipped my tea. It was weird, but I couldn’t think of anything to talk about. I almost launched into an explanation of what was in his lunch, but didn’t. He wouldn’t be interested in the ingredients of a cranberry walnut chicken salad. The only other thing that popped into my head was the Friday-night football game, but I stopped myself before I blurted out anything about the win. He didn’t know I’d been there.
“So,” we both said at the same time.
“Sorry,” I said. “Go ahead.”
