She might just have bad cholesterol. Or asthma. But no. No, those drug names were familiar from the news.
And it wasn’t just the kitchen renovation that was different in the house. Ted recalled it now, taking a step into Ryan’s foyer and being hit by the unmistakable scent of ever-present cigarette smoke.
It was gone now. Mrs. Costa had quit smoking, and it must’ve been a while ago.
“Fuck.” Ted ran his hands through his hair, which only messed it up, but for once he didn’t care. His imagination was running away with him: was this why Ryan had come back from before he made it to Vietnam? Was this why he’d settled down and gotten a steady job? Was this why he’d come back to Dayton when he knew the whole world was open to him?
Was this why he needed money?
It was stupid to speculate. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it had been something but was fine now. Maybe…