Chapters (65)
- Title Page
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty–one
- Twenty–two
- Twenty–three
- Twenty–four
- Twenty–five
- Twenty–six
- Twenty–seven
- Twenty–eight
- Twenty–nine
- Thirty
- Thirty–one
- Thirty–two
- Thirty–three
- Thirty–four
- Thirty–five
- Thirty–six
- Thirty–seven
- Thirty–eight
- Thirty–nine
- Forty
- Forty–one
- Forty–two
- Forty–three
- Forty–four
- Forty–five
- Forty–six
- Forty–seven
- Forty–eight
- Forty–nine
- Fifty
- Fifty–one
- Fifty–two
- Fifty–three
- Fifty–four
- Fifty–five
- Fifty–six
- Fifty–seven
- Author’s Note
- Acknowledgments
- Also by Becky Masterman
- About the Author
- Newsletter Sign-up
Beaufort stood up from petting Achilles and said, “This is Gloria. What are you doing home?”
“I forgot my lunch and there was no appointment scheduled until two.” She put her hands up and waggled her fingers in a gesture that described some sort of magic trick. “So voilà, here I am.” The words were the old Gloria, but the face … had this been going on before now and he was too consumed with his problems to see it? He made a mental note to get more flowers.
“I don’t think we’ve met,” Carlo said, treating Gloria the way you do in any normal social situation. “I’m Carlo. Carlo DiForenza.”
Good old clueless Gloria. Not seeming to notice the almost palpable current of anxiety coming off of Carlo, she stuck out her hand and gave a tentative “Hi. Can I get you something?”
“I’m fine, thank you,” Carlo answered.
Despite the potential harm this meeting could do, Beaufort found himself amused that out in the world such a bizarre circumstance would result in the same boring small talk you got in any social situation. A few minutes of this chitchat and he figured Gloria would be on her way back to work. He sat down in the recliner next to the couch to watch the show. He didn’t bother to hide the duct tape, but put it on the coffee table.
“May I sit?” Carlo asked after shaking his head and her hand, his eyes darting between Beaufort and Gloria. When Gloria swung her hand to indicate the couch he took a seat. Achilles jumped up beside him and nosed his hand, which Carlo obligingly applied to scratching behind his ears.
“That’s a good idea,” Beaufort said. “Let’s all sit.”
Gloria started to speak.
“Sit,” Beaufort said, with an emphasis on the t the way you’d command a dog.
She sat, and Beaufort gazed at Achilles. “Did you ever hear the joke about the three-legged pig?” he asked.
The other two shook their heads.
“This guy is visiting a nearby farm and spots a three-legged pig. When he asks the farmer how that happened, the farmer says, ‘That pig. That pig is so good he once saved our whole family from a burning house. He squealed and squealed until we were all awake, and even tugged on my son’s pajama leg to wake him up to get out.’ And the visitor says, ‘Wow, that pig is certainly good. Did he lose his leg in the fire?’ ‘Naw,’ said the farmer. ‘When you got a pig that good you eat it real slow.’”