The Last Handful of Clover - Book 1: The Hereafter

1.21 Coffee, The Darker the Better

June 6, 8:12 am

By the time Michelle arrived at Keith's house, the neighborhood was coming to life for the day.

One thing you could be certain about in a Utah suburb on a beautiful summer day, was that there would be lots of kids running up and down the sidewalks, and lots of Norman-Rockwell-like scenes in the porches and the yards that you passed. On Keith's street alone, one guy was washing his car in his driveway, and a man was playing catch with his son in the yard right next door.

If any place is stuck in the 1950s, Michelle thought, it's Utah. Not even a horrific murder in the neighborhood can upset the domestic routine.

She waved to Keith's neighbors, some of whom she had met and some she had not. It didn't matter. In the Avenues, everyone had a tendency to wave at each other when they passed.

Michelle knocked at Keith's door, but then let herself in with a key. She'd always been careful never to do that when Richard was home, but Keith didn't seem to mind.

"Honey, are you awake?" she yelled through the open doorway, even though the text message had said that he was.

All the way over Michelle had fought off the butterflies in her stomach, but seeing Keith standing behind the dining room table, she immediately felt better. He did it, she thought. He got through a whole night alone in this house, and he looks just fine.

And he did, from a distance. But as she got closer, she could see that the smile on his face was forced, and the haunted look in his eyes hadn't diminished. He was trying to put on a brave face, but it was clear he hadn't had a good night, or a good morning.

Keith was just pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"Oh, honey, you look exhausted. Did you sleep at all?"

"Yes, mama bear, I actually slept really well," Keith said, as he put down the pot and submitted to her hug. But as soon as she released him, he sank down into a chair, as if standing was too much for him. "I actually thought I was doing really well," he said, "until I came downstairs and looked in the living room. Then I realized that... Well, that I wasn't."

She kissed the top of her friend's head and rumpled his jet black hair. His hand was still on the handle of the coffee pot, and she saw he was gripping it tightly, as if to stop his hand from shaking. Gently, she took the pot from his fist and poured her coffee into a second cup.

"How did you sleep?" he asked her.

He wants to know if I got laid last night, Michelle thought, and smiled to herself.

"Good, actually," she said with a wink. That actually lightened Keith's mood.

"Nice. Speaking of horizontal therapy, where is the big galoot? I thought he was coming with us today." She could see the disappointment in his eyes. He really missed Pil. It was so clear on his face. The realization caused her a bit of a tremor. Would Keith now fall deeper into his affection for her husband, now that Richard was gone? She wouldn't mind, but she worried how each of them would handle Keith's emotions, if that happened. If nothing else, Keith's love for Richard had kept his feelings for Pil in perspective. What happened now?

"He'll be here tonight. He has to work, but he promised he'd come with us to the funeral home." She took his hand. "You miss him a lot, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess I do. It just feels like we're not the three musketeers without him. And you and I haven't been great about keeping ourselves from melting down the past few days. I think he helps."

"He does indeed." She paused a moment and changed the subject. "I was really worried about you being here by yourself last night. But Pil said you'd be fine, and I think he was right."