Sorry -- Not

 

 "Sorry."

"So, so sorry." 

"My condolences."

"I'm sorry for your loss."

"At least he didn't suffer."

Karen responded to each one with the proper expression which she had glued on her face and a nod. Soon it would be over and people would have left, forgetting about her. forgetting about his accident.

Son Jack had flown in from California. Daughter Marilyn had driven to Maine from Boston where she was a Ph.D. candidate at Boston University.

Jack was threatening to stay for two or three weeks to "help" while Marilyn said she'd spend her Christmas break with her after Jack left so Karen wouldn't be alone. She'd deal with that in the morning.

Tonight her children would sleep in their childhood bedrooms.

The fridge was crammed with casseroles, crudities, pies and who knew what all. All their friends must be secret caterers. Marilyn had taken charge, refilling the dining table for the horde swirling around.

Looking at the people, Karen wondered which one of Seth's students was this year's lover. Probably the blond with red eyes being comforted by a girl with a black pixie and oversized earrings. Seth had been a much loved prof. Much loved.

Karen slipped into the bedroom, shut the bedroom door without turning on the light. She didn't want a sliver of light to slip under the door, revelaing her hideaway.

Picking up her mobile from the nightstand she speed dialed Tom's number.

"How's it going?"

"As horrible as I thought. I do play the grieving widow well."

"Next week at this time we'll be in Hawaii."

The expression on her face came unglued, replaced by a real smile.