I looked at the envelope of forged documents sitting on the table.
“What do you think it is?”
“I think you felt embarrassed.”
“I did.”
“I’m sorry about that.”
“But?”
He hesitated.
“But Allison’s parents are going through something. Her father’s health isn’t great, her mother is overwhelmed, and Allison wanted one quiet evening.”
It was such a reasonable explanation that, under different circumstances, I might have accepted it immediately.
“That still doesn’t explain why I couldn’t sit at the table.”
Geoffrey exhaled.
“I handled it badly.”
That sentence sounded genuine.
For a moment, I heard my son rather than the man standing in the doorway.
Then he said, “Can we come by tomorrow?”
My eyes moved to Patricia.
She shook her head slowly.
Not yet.
I understood.
“Not tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“We have appointments.”
“What appointments?”
The question came too quickly.
I said nothing.
