Michael
“Congratulations, Richard.” Will Stanton clinks glasses with his old friend. “I came over as soon as I heard. And how’s Beth? I have some flowers for her.”
‘Some flowers’ is an understatement. The bouquet is huge.
“I’ll find a vase for them,” I say. “You can take them up together.”
“Great!” His smile is broad. “And the baby, Adam is it? How’s he?”
“All present and correct,” beams Richard. “Mother and baby doing well.”
From the front door, the sound of knocking. “I’ll get it,” I say. “Enjoy your champagne. It’s probably another delivery of Congratulations cards.
I head down the hall, chuckling. I’d not considered that, Richard being who he is, one of the Great and Good of the City, we’d be overwhelmed by cards. The house is festooned with them: hundreds of the things: from fr
