Mike looks bad to Iris. Gaunt, tired, pale, as if Danielle’s death has sunk into him like an illness. He opens the door and she walks in with the dinner, the one she cooked and split between him and Ned and Gordon, with Grant following her, carrying the side dishes. The house is quiet and dark: no sound of television, or music, or anything but the absence of Danielle.

“How are you holding up?” she asks, setting the casserole dish down on the counter.

Mike is giving a sideways hug to Grant. “I am just taking it hour by hour.”

“How’s Peter?”

Mike shrugs. “He has a project to work on… He throws himself into that. It is avoiding how he feels, but if that is what works for him…?”

Grant bites his lip, which Iris notices.

Mike says, “How is Julia? I am worried for her. The shock.”

“She’s all right. She’s mostly worried about Ned.”

“Ned,” Mike says, shaking his head. “His father is not good medicine right now. Gordon is more interested in doing what looks right than what is right for Ned.”

“Can I stay here with Mike and Peter for a bit, Mom? Please?” Grant asks.

“Well, that’s up to Mike,” Iris says. “He might not feel up to company right now.”

“Yes, fine, of course. Just for a little while. Then I’ll eat and try to sleep. I didn’t sleep last night.” Mike pats Grant’s shoulder.

“OK, then.” Iris leaves, and while walking home she gets a text from Francie: Call me. I found out who threatened Danielle.

26

Grant

Mike makes himself a cup of hot tea in the microwave, heating the water, dropping in a tea bag, then stirring strawberry jam into the mug.

“That’s weird,” Grant said.

“That is how some people drink tea back home. My brother would keep the jam in his mouth to sweeten the tea. Or we put in honey.”

“I’m sorry about Danielle.”

“I know. Maybe, when a few days pass, I will go fishing again. You can come with me, OK? If you want.”

“OK,” Grant said. Mike drank his tea, and Grant helped himself to a soda from the refrigerator.

“Is your sister really all right?” Mike asked.

“I don’t think so, but we all have to say we are fine. Why is that?”

“It’s just what people do.”

“Don’t people care how you really are?”

“People mostly care about politeness. After my wife died, people would ask how I was, and even before I answered they were looking over my shoulder, bored. People are odd, chlapec.”

“Peter said you were going to marry Danielle.”

“Maybe. We talked about it a couple of times; once Peter heard us. She didn’t want to get married again. I’m not sure how Peter would have reacted to me marrying.”

“Didn’t he like Danielle?”