The Perfect Son

“Sure thing. If Curt asks, I’ll explain you had to go and see a client.” She winked.

The strangest thing about crises—they revealed allies in unlikely places. The expressions Nora Mae, a widow and devoted grandmother, fired toward Robert’s back whenever he left for a lunchtime special had long betrayed her opinion of extramarital activity. What Felix hadn’t realized until the last few weeks was that Nora Mae also had no patience for phonies. This had proved useful, since whenever Curt was within spitting distance of Robert, he became more obsequious than Uriah Heep. Evidently, Curt had designs on a partnership. The one that belonged, at least for now, to Felix.

He had grown fond of Nora Mae. A gift might be appropriate. “I’m going to Scratch. Can I bring back a pie for card night? My treat.” He would ask Liz, the young barista who always said, “The usual, Mr. Fitzwilliam?” for her recommendation, since he wasn’t a pudding person.

“Oh, you’re good,” she said. “You remembered Friday is girls’ card night.”

“Indeed. I’ll text you the specials.”

“You’re a gem. Thank you.”




Head lowered against the cold and the murmur of incessant thoughts, Felix strode onto the brick-paved pedestrian street protected by arching, mature trees. He glanced sideways into the narrow alley that always reminded him of a medieval Italian street, possibly because of the huge terra-cotta pots. They were stuffed with what he could now identify as heucheras.

He looked right and there was Katherine, sitting at one of the metal tables outside Scratch, typing into her phone. She glanced up and smiled. The smile was the best thing that had happened to him all day, which was sad considering the she-devil’s opinion of him. Antihero didn’t sound like a desirable role, but he wasn’t here to be liked or disliked. He was here for one reason: Katherine had earned his trust.

“I thought we’d be more private outside, but the temperature’s dropping.” She stood and pushed her funky green reading glasses onto her head. They mirrored the color of her eyes.

“Yes, it appears last weekend’s spring weather was an aberration. It’s definitely a little exposed out here.” He craned toward the road at the end of the street, checking for Robert’s silver BMW. Brilliant—he could add paranoid to sleep deprived.

Felix held open the glass door. A warm, spicy smell and the hubbub of chatter greeted them. “What can I get you?” Felix stared at the blue chalkboard wall. Lunch—real food—might be advisable, but he had no appetite these days.

Katherine marched up to the register, despite the spiky-heeled boots that seemed utterly impractical for walking, and smiled at Liz. “Cappuccino, please.”

Decisiveness. A good quality. He was gradually coming to understand why Ella had chosen Katherine as a friend. She made things easy. There was no drama and no oversharing. She liked you; she didn’t. She spoke her mind, and if you didn’t agree, it was not her problem.

Felix ordered a cappuccino, too. Why not?

“Not going for the London Fog with Earl Grey?” Katherine nodded at the specials listed on the wall. “I thought you were a tea drinker?”

“That’s my usual.” Felix smiled at Liz. “But the parameters of my life appear to be shifting.”

“Have you had lunch?”

He shook his head. Katherine turned back to the counter. “The snack plate with the assorted pickles, cheeses, and meats is locally sourced, I assume? Fantastic. We’ll add one of those, please.”

“I’m not hungry,” Felix said. Nor do I appreciate people choosing my food.

“No offense, but you’re looking a little malnourished.”

His stomach replied with a loud growl, and Katherine raised her eyebrows. “I rest my case.”

Felix paid, then hesitated by the glass display case, checking the pies before pulling out his mobile to text Nora Mae.

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