24

Muriel couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so hard. It must have been years ago. The last few dinners at Natalie’s house were ruined one way or the other by Stan. Sometimes he was too quiet. Sometimes he fumed about the cost of some wine they were having or some decadent petit fours Natalie bought at an upscale bakery three towns over. He would go over and over all the ways the money could have been better spent until Natalie, increasingly red-faced, retreated to the kitchen to bang pots and pans. Stan shouldn’t have behaved that way. Especially with guests there. Even if they were all related. Don’t desire a rich man’s delicacies. Better to put a knife to your throat. It was somewhere in the Bible. Probably Proverbs. Muriel had read it took fewer muscles to smile than to frown. Now it seemed she was using muscles she hadn’t used for a long time.

There went Uncle Clarence again. Telling a story about the time he was a little boy and he ran away from school. Just slipped out the gate at recess when all the teachers were gathered in a circle talking to each other. He walked half a mile, found a rowboat, went onto a lake, and had a wonderful time. Until the police came to pick him up.

He was certainly a good story teller. So different from Howard who had hardly ever said a word. It seemed she had known Clarence all her life. His stories about his school days made her remember her own. If he’d told her they had been in the same class, she would have believed him. They were about the same age. She held her napkin to her lips and felt the curvature. Yep. Her lips were turned up. Who would have thought?

Kevin’s mother had spread a tablecloth over two long tables that were pushed together. A rose-colored cyclamen sat enough off center that any unexpected jerk to the tables would not send the plant crashing to the ground. The silverware wasn’t silver at all. Just stainless steel. Natalie would have been embarrassed to set her own table with it. But it was better than the set Muriel used. At least all the pieces matched. And everyone was having a good time. Even the teenage boys.

What was Natalie doing? Muriel hoped she wasn’t moping because they couldn’t go out for tea. The more things Muriel found to do, the more it seemed Natalie wanted to do something with her. If only Natalie didn’t issue such last minute invitations. Muriel would be happy to plan around her schedule.

Poor Natalie was having a hard time dealing with Stan’s death. There was no question about it.

Muriel heard the rumors as she stood in line at the supermarket. How Natalie’s personality had driven Stan to suicide. How they hadn’t been getting along for years. It was bad enough to lose your husband. But then to be blamed for it, too? Nobody mentioned the Ponzi scheme even though it made front page news. Nobody else was stupid enough to have their assets tied up in it.

Clarence leaned toward Muriel. “And what shenanigans were you up to when you were in elementary school?”

She had never made a peep. Just sat at her desk and did her work, and got all E’s for excellent. “I never did anything as exciting as you did. My, Clarence, your teachers must have been at their wits’ end. Your parents, too.”

“Yep, I kept them all on their toes. But Muriel. Time to fess up. There must be something you can share with us.”

“Well…not at school. But my best friend, Sarah Anne, and I once took a shortcut to her house after school. I wasn’t supposed to take shortcuts. Not through somebody’s private property. Anyway, we climbed a fence and started through a yard, and a dog came out and barked at us. It scared me half to death. If I’d been bitten, I would have had to tell my mother that I’d disobeyed her. Now that was a scary thought! So I never said a word. My mother died not knowing. It might have been the start of a life of crime.”

Clarence roared with laughter so infectious that Muriel joined in.

After dinner was over and the birthday candles were blown out and the presents opened, Clarence offered to drive Muriel home. He was driving himself home. It was silly for Kevin and his father to make a special trip. Especially since Kevin hadn’t yet driven after dark, and his father had to get up early for work the next day.

Muriel had second thoughts when she saw Clarence’s old car. It looked like something out of the 1960s. But then, as she hesitated, he held the passenger door for her and waved her in with a little bow. No man had held a door for her since Howard got cancer. Howard! What would he think about another man driving her home? It’s been ten years. He’s probably wondering what took me so long.

Clarence pulled out onto the busy highway leading to Muriel’s house. “So how did you meet Kevin’s family? And why haven’t I seen you at their house before?”

Did Clarence know about the carjacking? Muriel didn’t want him to look down on Kevin or his family because she gossiped. “Uh, well…Kevin and I went for a ride and…”

“So you’re the lady he carjacked.”

Muriel breathed a sigh of relief. “Yep. That’s me.”

“You know, most people would try to make some money out of his mistake. Sue. Settle out of court. Something.”

It wasn’t exactly a question. But Clarence had stopped talking and seemed to be waiting for a response.

“Everyone told me I should sue. But it didn’t seem right to ruin a young man’s future.”

“Do you always do what’s right?” Clarence glanced away from the road to look at her.

Warmth creeped onto Muriel’s face. “I try to. I don’t always succeed.”

They were coming off the highway now, descending the exit ramp, turning into the neighborhood where Muriel lived.

Clarence pulled up in front of her house and cleared his throat. “It’s been a great evening, Muriel. Would it be OK if…I mean…would you like to go out for coffee sometime?”

What should I say, Lord? The words slipped out before she thought them through. “Why, that would be nice, Clarence.” She’d have to squeeze him in between her tutoring sessions, her driving lessons with Kevin, and her attempts to keep Natalie distracted from her grief. But, somehow, she’d manage. She had the feeling he was worth it.