“The police felt it was an open-and-shut case of self-defense,” Sarah said for the umpteenth time as she helped herself to another slice of oozy gooey burrata pizza. “You saved my life.” Mick folded his third slice of pepperoni and bit into the tomatoey, cheesy, spicy goodness. It’s true. New York pizza is the best. The crust has just the right amount of chew and crisp, a texture thing. He was glad Jane’s offspring had declined to join them for pizza and had gone to the restaurant downstairs for dinner. More tasty goodness for me. Mick had gotten Jane’s family tickets to the premiere, the after-party, and had arranged transportation, which gave them the freedom to come and go as they wished. Many people imagined these shindigs to be glamourous affairs, but generally it was just a lot of in-house schmoozing and boring as hell.

“I like pizza,” Lilly chimed in. The kid sure packed a lot of food into her small little body. She had single-handedly devoured almost an entire margarita pizza.

“Last night,” Jane continued. “As I was lying in bed, it suddenly crossed my mind that perhaps after Phillip had knocked you off, he was going to do away with me. Plant us both under that northern red oak tree.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t have, Auntie Jane,” Sarah said firmly, but Mick knew her well enough to know she wasn’t so certain.

“I don’t know about that.” Jane shook her head. She thought about it for a moment and then shrugged, like it was of no more consequence than whether one preferred trout to bass. “By the way, I’ve decided I want a fresh start. I’m going to sell both the New York apartment and our home in Westchester.”

“They do say that you shouldn’t make any big life-changing decisions for the first six months after a death in the family,” Sarah said, handing Lilly the final slice of margarita.

“In normal circumstances, yes. However, I think this”—Jane swirled her hands in the air—“requires an entirely different approach. Those places are permeated with him, with memories, his things, his temper tantrums. It’s my turn now.” Jane dabbed her mouth daintily with her napkin and then stood, shoulders back, her chin held high. “I’m not going to wait another day to begin my life anew. I am going to get dressed to the nines and go to your fancy premiere. And I intend to enjoy myself. What a novelty it will be to socialize without feeling Phillip’s disapproving glare at my back, always kicking me under the table or jabbing his bony elbow into my ribs. I hated that. Never could relax. Always watching my words. As if he were the great arbitrator of what constituted appropriate conversation.”

“He was a mean old man,” Lilly said with a scowl, which was so ferocious it made everyone laugh.