Later in the day, Alan’s in the living room doing the Saturday crossword, which is appreciatively harder than the Thomas Joseph puzzle that appears in the morning paper. Sunday’s is the toughest, and usually takes Alan all day to work through. It helps keep his mind limber, though. He read somewhere that doing puzzles keeps the brain young and sharp. Maybe it was in Reader’s Digest, he isn’t sure, and he doesn’t know if it’s true or not, but he enjoys the challenge.
At some point he becomes aware that he isn’t alone. Alan turns to find Brooks standing at the bottom of the stairs, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, staring at him.
“Wotcher, lad?” Alan pats the cushion beside him on the couch. “Take a seat.”
For a moment Brooks doesn’t move. Then he rocks back on his heels, and w
