This was not going to go well. Dace’s kids knew nothing of me and I knew precious little about them. In one stroke, Dace had relieved them of a sizable inheritance and placed the burden on me. Why would they be pleasant or courteous or even civil when I was delivering such bad news? They’d be pissed as hell. Maybe notifying Ethan by mail was a better approach. If he or his sisters wanted to contest the terms of the will, he could contact me through his attorney. That would save me driving 150 miles to get the shit kicked out of me. I didn’t want to deal with their rage or their indignation. If the three of them were indifferent to news of their father’s death, I didn’t want to deal with that either. Dace had made a mess of his life, but he’d tried to make amends. Drink and drugs aside, he’d been dealt a bad hand. It was time for someone to give the poor guy a break.

Just then, Henry came striding around the corner of the building with a bucket of water and a folded newspaper under one arm, narrowly avoiding bumping into me. I yelped as water sloshed out of the bucket and down the front of my all-purpose dress. I don’t know which of us was more surprised.

He put the bucket down. “Sorry. I’m so sorry, but I had no idea you’d be standing there.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. I’d thought to reassure him, but I must have telegraphed something of my upset and confusion because his look changed from surprise to concern. He reached out and touched my arm. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. I’m fine. It’s been a hell of a day.”

“You look like you lost your best friend.”

“Worse. It’s much worse. I don’t even know where to begin.”

“I’ve got time.”

“No, really. You’re in the middle of something. I don’t want to interrupt.”

“Washing windows. I haven’t even started yet. What’s worse than losing a friend?”

“Someone left me half a million bucks. Give or take,” I added in the interest of being accurate.

“The bastard. That’s terrible!”

He expected me to laugh, but all I could do was moan. There have been occasions when his kindness has caused me to burst into tears. I couldn’t even manage that. He set the bucket and the newspaper on the walk and took me by the arm. He steered me toward the back patio, where he sat me down in an Adirondack chair. I propped my elbows on my knees and hung my head, wondering if I was going to throw up or faint.

He grabbed a lightweight aluminum lawn chair and swung it over close to mine. “What in the world is going on?”