Chapter 10: The Third Cup

Joanna's POV

The notary came at noon.

She was a plump, tired woman with a rolling case.

She smiled at me in the front hall.

I took her into the dining room and sat her down at my mother's table.

Then I called Craig on speaker.

"Jo?" he said. "Is she there?"

"She's here. And I have a pounding headache, Craig."

"Take something."

"I called my OB's nurse. She said no big decisions for two weeks."

"What nurse?"

"She said grief makes people sign things they regret."

The line was quiet.

"We'll talk tonight," he said, in a very even voice.

The notary packed her case with an offended sniff and went out the front door.

I watched her car all the way to the end of the block.

I had bought myself one night.

I used it.

At ten that evening Craig was still out, a client dinner, he had texted, don't wait up.

Britt had gone to bed early with a headache of her own.

The house was quiet.

I sat in my room with the lamp on and my phone under the edge of the pillow, recording.

Dorothea knocked twice and came in.

She had her steel thermos in one hand and a cup in the other, and she set both on the nightstand.

"Chamomile and a little ginger, dear."

She unscrewed the lid.

I put my hand over hers.

"Sit down, Dorothea," I said.

She looked at my hand.

"I need to turn down your bed."

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