Two weeks later, we drove to Lake Tahoe with Fred, to scatter Sam’s ashes in a secluded spot near the lake. One that Fred had scouted out the week before. We were joined by Thane and his father, Mike, so they could also pay their respects. Thane and I kept our distance and acted civil, but there was definitely a tension in the air between us.
After we were finished, we decided to have lunch at a steakhouse at the edge of town.
“So, you’re the woman Thane’s been gnawing my ear about,” said Mike, taking a swig of his beer. He was the spitting image of Thane, only thirty years older and a full-fledged beer belly.
I looked at Thane, who was sitting in the chair next to me. The expression on his face was of confusion.
Mike snorted. “Don’t give me that look, Mister. You know you have.”
“Don
