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you picked up in the South, no doubt. And your home is well appointed for entertaining, too. I have heard it is stunning, and the view so breathtaking, well, we couldn’t turn down the opportunity to have you host the feast.”
    “Let me talk to Jan.”
    “Be like that. Here she is.”
    I could hear fumbling and movement and faint voices, then Ernie’s wife, Jan, came on the phone.
    “It’s my idea, big boy, so you might as well accept it. It’s been years since you invited us over, and that was here in Belue , so we’re going to help you continue to re-assimilate into the wonderful world of the living.”
    “You have a point. I’ve been spending much too much time associating with the dead.”
    There was brief silence from Jan. “Some of whom you appropriately placed in that category, I must say. And a good thing, too. Now, start shopping for a nice dinner wine and perhaps a fine brandy for after when we sit on the deck or by the fire, depending on the weather, and reminisce about your glory days in Belue .”
    “Yes, ma’am,” I said. “I’m glad I thought of this.”
    “So am I, Thomas. You have special gifts and talents, and we’ve missed them. We’ll come by the Tuesday evening before Thanksgiving. That way we can settle in, get a tour of Rockbluff and environs the next morning, including an introduction to that wonderful man, Lunatic Mooning. Then I’ll start cooking. I trust that your kitchen is well-appointed?”
    “I have a steel sink, a hand pump, and a Swiss Army Knife.”
    “Everything I could ask for,” she said. “Now, I’ll give you back to Ernie. Just remember, Thomas, we love you and miss you. I’m excited just thinking of seeing you again. And Gotcha, of course.”
    Jan Timmons was sniffling when she handed over the phone to Ernie. Italian-American women can be emotional.
    He said, “I suspect you’ll have everything wrapped up concerning this girl in the river situation by the time we show up on your doorstep.”
    “If not, I know I can count on you to bring a degree of probity to the proceedings,” I said.
    “I’ll bring my Bible,” he said. And with that, we hung up after brief good-byes, looking forwards, and stay warms.
    I spent most of the next couple days trying to lose myself in my routine. Morning run, time on the internet, hard workout at the Earthen Vessel Barbell Club and Video Rental, and spending lots of time reading. Susan Boyer, Mark Mustian , and Robert B. Parker mostly. Some Sheri Reynolds. And waiting to see what the authorities in Rockbluff would come up with regarding the girl in the water. I heard nothing but a mention on the local radio saying, “The investigation of an apparent suicide continues.”
    Two days after my Wednesday discovery, I decided to sleep in and skip my morning run to give my aching knees a rest. I started the coffee and walked with Gotcha down my drive to the blacktop county road where the week’s edition of The Rockbluff Recorder waited in my mailbox. I tucked it under my arm and walked back up to the house, a few sharp pings of pain in my left knee, probably that pesky ACL that got injured on a mission in Jordan. I don’t recommend jumping out of helicopters, even if they are hovering just a few yards from the ground.
    Gotcha ambled alongside me except for an occasional foray into the brush to attend to her duties, sniffing and squatting and sneezing.
    The morning was crisp and cold, 21 degrees according to the thermometer outside my kitchen window I had glanced at first thing, a habit from childhood and inherited from my mother. All Iowans are required to have thermometers outside their kitchen windows. I liked it, the air so sharp and brittle that one could almost break off a shard and save it for July, and I found myself enjoying the simple beauty of what’s left of my life. I have significant resources, good health, a beautiful place to live, and a few friends I’ve made over the last year or so.
    And I continue to sleep