Chapter 10: A Courtesy

I opened the front door in Ed's flannel shirt and nothing under it, because I was too tired to be smart.

Brad's older brother stood on my welcome mat with his clipboard against his chest.

He wore a polo with a golf logo on the chest and looked as if he'd been awake since the day before.

"Morning, Lori."

"It's six in the morning."

"It's six-fifteen. I'm serving you."

"With what?"

He pulled a sheet of paper out of the envelope and held it out.

NOTICE OF OUTSTANDING DEBT, it said at the top, in a font trying very hard to look legal.

The body claimed I owed Bradley Neely $4,300 for "his share of the roof."

I had paid for that roof in full, in cash, from my mother's life insurance, two years before Brad moved in.

"He wants you to know it's a courtesy," said the brother. "He could've gone to small claims."

"He still can."

"He doesn't want to. He just wants to talk."

"Everyone wants to talk to me," I said. "It's been a big week for talking."

A floorboard creaked behind me.

Ed came down the hall in his jeans, barefoot and shirtless, with his hair on end.

There was a mark on his shoulder the shape of my mouth, and he had a coffee mug in his hand.

He stopped beside me.

He didn't touch me.

He just stood there, a wall that had decided to be a person, and looked at Brad's brother over the rim of the cup.

The brother's eyes went from Ed's shoulder to my bare legs and back.