seldom generous. She would be a fool to greet this staggering
beneficence with a frown. Her first thought was to call Jack at
work.
She went to the wall phone, dialed part of the number, then hung up.
This was once-in-a-lifetime news. She would never have another
opportunity to spring something this deliriously wonderful on him, and
she must not screw it up. For one thing, she wanted to see his face
when he heard about the inheritance. She took the notepad and pencil
from the holder beside the phone and returned to the table, where she
read the letter again. She wrote out a list of questions for Paul
Youngblood, then returned to the phone and called him in Eagle's Roost,
Montana. When Heather identified herself to the attorney's secretary
and then to the man himself, her voice was tremil she was half afraid
he would tell her there had been a mistake. Maybe someone had
contested the will. Or maybe a more recent will had been found, which
negated the one naming Jack as the sole heir. A thousand maybes.
Rush-hour traffic was even worse than usual. Dinner was delayed
because Jack got home more than half an hour late, tired and frazzled
but putting on a good act as a man in love with his new job and happy
with his life. The instant Toby was finished eating, he asked to be
excused to watch a favorite television program, and Heather let him
go.
She wanted to share the news with Jack first, just the two of them, and
tell Toby later. As usual, Jack helped her clean the table and load
the dishwasher. When they were finished, he said, 'Think I'll go for a
walk, exercise these legs.'
'You having any pain?'
'Just a little crdmping.'
Though he had stopped using a cane, she worried that he wouldn't tell
her if he was having strength or balance problems. 'You sure you're
okay?'
'Positive.' He kissed her cheek. 'You and Moshe Bloom could never be
married. You'd always be fighting over whose job it was to do the
mothering.'
'Sit down a minute,' she said, leading him to the table and encouraging
him into a chair. 'There's something we have to talk about.'
'If Toby needs more dental work, I'll do it myself.'
'No dental work.'
'You see the size of that last bill?'
'Yes, I saw it.'
'Who needs teeth, anyway? Clams don't have teeth, and they get along
just fine. Oysters don't have teeth. Worms don't have teeth. Lots of
things don't have teeth, and they're perfectly happy.'
'Forget about teeth,' she said, fetching Youngblood's letter and the
photographs from the top of the refrigerator.
He took the envelope when she offered it. 'What're you grinning
about?
What's this?'
'Read it.' Heather sat across from him, her elbows on the table, her
