Chapter 69

A week after the confirmatory telephone call, Charles, Gran, and I were relaxing in the sunroom late one afternoon. Charles’ cast had been removed the day before, and he was walking with only one crutch while his leg regained its strength. He’d still need physical therapy for several weeks, but the therapy would be focused more on the injured leg and less on the rest of his body.

We were on a settee at one end of the room, and Gran was in a chair opposite. All three of us were enjoying glasses of white wine. Charles and I had planned this encounter carefully, and he said, “Gran, we have something to tell you.”

“Yes?”

“Simply that this whole experience of being shot and all that has gotten both Philip and myself thinking about our posterity, so to speak.”

“That’s perfectly natural, I should think.”

“Anyhow, remember when we flew to Boston a few weeks ago?”

“Yes.”