CHAPTER 13
It’s Thursday evening, and I’m on the couch in my pyjamas with a gin and tonic in hand. I work from home on Fridays, so it’s almost weekend. I can indulge a little.
While I watch a rerun of Midsomer Murders on TV, Jeff is upstairs reading. I encourage this because it gives his mind something positive to focus on, something healthy that’s not his music and something that doesn’t consume him. The last time I saw him, he was sitting in the beanbag with Sammy stretched across his lap.
The doorbell rings. It’s almost nine o’clock, and I am not expecting anyone. I could bet everything I own that Jeff isn’t expecting anyone either. I put my drink on the coffee table, glance down at my attire and decide that I am adequately covered, then plod over to the front door.
It’s Leeanne.
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