to him.»
«That’s between you and him.»
She entered the living room.
I heard fragments.
«Yes.»
«No.»
«She told you.»
A long pause.
Then her voice broke.
«No, David. Don’t you dare say that.»
More silence.
«Because I stood beside her coffin.»
I stopped packing.
Elaine began crying.
«Yes. Your daughter.»
Silence.
«No, I’m not lying.»
Then louder:
«Your wife called you fifty-one times!»
I heard her say, «No. You listen to me.»
I went upstairs.
Some conversations were no longer mine to participate in.
Twenty minutes later, Elaine found
