The cold air hit Brad like a punch in the face. “Oh God!” he said aloud and stopped abruptly.

Bobby halted with him. “What?”

“I just remembered that I forgot something else.”

“What?”

“I invited my boss to our house to celebrate his birthday—Saturday, as a matter of fact.”

“That’s Beata’s birthday,” Bobby reminded him.

“I know.” God! Joanna Hudson would have a Bukowski fit. Brad could hear her shriek now: Jared Cramer in my house for dinner! Whad were you thinkin, Sohn? Whadever led you to offer invitation to Sohn of man responsible for your Vater’s death?

Brad would have to say that in a moment’s sympathy for the man, he’d extended the invitation. In actuality it had been offered in the alcoholic glow of the third round of beers when Jared had confided that he was about to hit a milestone birthday. He’d turn fifty next Saturday, May 23. That was the date of his sister’s birthday! Brad had exclaimed. What did Mr. Cramer plan to do to celebrate his big day? Why, nothing, his boss had said, sad faced. He had no family and…frankly, he’d not had time to make friends, his being so busy with the lumberyard and all. He’d probably make do with a sandwich at the office catching up on paperwork. Brad had blurted out, “You can’t spend your birthday on Saturday at the yard with a sandwich, Mr. Cramer! You’re welcome to come share my sister’s birthday dinner with us at our house!”

“Well, now, that sounds like a mighty tempting invitation, Brad, and one you’re kind to offer. I’ll take you up on it,” his boss had said.

Brad just now recalled that Jared Cramer hadn’t taken a breath before accepting the invitation, and he wondered if his boss hadn’t carefully thrown out a line for him to snap up like an unwary trout going for a fly. His mother, busy with house and garden and the family, was not often seen around town, but Mr. Cramer had glimpsed her the rare mornings she’d ridden with Brad to work before taking the truck for the rest of the day to run errands. On one of those early mornings, his boss had spied them from his office window and greeted him with the observation, “Fine-looking woman, your mother.” Brad had heard the same admiration in his voice as Mr. Shreve’s when the grocer asked after her.