The first thing she did, even before taking off her jacket, was kick off her shoes. “God, I’ve been waiting forever to do that. I know desk jobs are awful, but at least if I had one of those I wouldn’t have to stand for nine hours.”

“Long day?” he asked.

“Is it possible to do a twenty-hour shift in a nine-hour work day? It was like time slowed down.” Maureen had worked at the eyeglass place in the mall for ten years and had never loved it. It had never been more than just a job. “What about you?”

Duckworth grimaced. “It had its moments.”

“Good or bad?”

He thought before answering. “Memorable.”

“Dumb question, anyway,” she said, “considering what you do. Was there a high point? Or a low point that was so low it was a high point?”

There were a few to choose from. The tattooed man? The one who’d had his genitals bitten off? The interrogation of their son and his new girlfriend?

“Let me think about that.”

“Why don’t you think about it while I get changed for dinner.”

“Say what?”

“You’re taking me out.” She smiled and gave him a kiss. “It’s so thoughtful of you.”

“Do I get to pick the place?” He was already thinking ribs.

She hesitated. “Why don’t we give Trevor a call and see if he wants to join us? We can let him pick the place.”

When Duckworth didn’t jump on the suggestion, Maureen said, “What? What’s wrong, Barry?”

“I think it’d be nice, just the two of us.”

“Did something happen today with Trevor?”

Duckworth was debating how much to tell her when they became aware of another car pulling into the driveway, followed seconds later by the slamming of a car door.

“Speak of the devil,” he said.

The door into the kitchen opened. Trevor took one step in and froze at the sight of his parents.

“Hey, Trev,” Maureen said cheerfully.

“Oh, great,” he said, taking in the two of them. “I guess Dad’s already filled you in.”

“About?”

“Treating me and my girlfriend like a couple of suspects.”

Maureen looked sharply at her husband. “What?” Then, just as quickly, back at Trevor, “Girlfriend?”

Duckworth shook his head. “It’s not like that. Trevor, you know that’s not how it was.”

“I never felt so embarrassed in my life,” Trevor said, moving past them. “Just the way you want someone to meet your dad.”

“What did you do?” Maureen asked Duckworth.

“I thought he might have been able to help me,” he said. “Simple as that.”

“Were you ever going to tell me about this?”

“You’ve been home for like two minutes,” Duckworth said defensively.

“Who’s this girl?” she asked Trevor.

“Carol,” he said.

“Beakman,” Duckworth added.

“Yeah, Dad would remember. I think he wrote it all down in his little notebook.”