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phone?” Bob stood over him. “What did you do? The house is a mess.”
    Mike’s head hurt like hell. He caught a whiff of Bob’s minty shaving cream, which nauseated him.
    “Get up, we’re gonna be late for the funeral director. We have to get a casket. We’ve been trying to call you. I have Danielle’s car.”
    Mike rubbed his eyes, remembering. He still had his phone turned off.
    “We have to pick out the casket and get them the dress, that’s my marching orders.” Bob shook his head. “After that, I have to go to the city, I have a pretrial conference that I couldn’t get out of. Try telling a federal judge his schedule isn’t the only schedule. If this case settles, I’m done with work until after the funeral. Sara’s coming over to pick out the dress.”
    “Sara, here? When?”
    “Around noon.” Bob looked around, eyeing the debris. “She wanted to help out, so we decided that Danielle should stay home with the baby and Sara should come over and pick out the dress, but I didn’t know it would look like this. Sheesh.”
    “I found the booze.” Mike felt sick at heart. “She hides it, I don’t know why. I found booze in the car, too, so she drives drunk. I don’t understand, I just don’t. It’s not her, it just isn’t her.”
    Bob sank onto the bed, deflated. “I didn’t think she’d drink and drive. Don’t tell Danielle. She doesn’t need to know.”
    Mike didn’t like secrets, but he let it go. A snowblower blared outside, and the patterned curtains hung open. Sun shone through the window, glittering on the jewelry strewn on the rug. “Sorry I freaked on you, when you told me.”
    “S’allright.” Bob turned to him, his expression pained. His white collar was so sharp it cut into his neck. “My conference is at eleven, in the city. You can get ready fast, right?”
    “Sure. I’ll shower and wear clothes from here.” Mike started to get up, but Bob stopped him, checking his watch.
    “No, wait. Let’s go to Plan B. You stay put. I’ll go pick out a casket, and you clean yourself up and the house. Get ready for Sara.”
    “Thanks, but no. I should get the casket.” Mike sat up, fighting queasiness.
    “No, you meet Sara. She really wants to see you, and I’ll buy a nice casket, I looked online. They have bronze, copper, and stainless steel, but I’d go with hardwood. Something simple, maybe cherry. The poplar looked ugly in the picture.”
    “Yes, fine, cherry.” Mike felt mixed up, loving and hating Chloe. She deserved either the best casket, or cardboard. He wondered when he could see her body. “When is she, you know, going to be ready?”
    “Not until the end of the day. I’ll order flowers, too. The funeral home has a package deal. What was her favorite color?”
    “Yellow.” Mike thought of the kitchen walls, slick with vodka.
    “I’ll get lots of yellow. Mums, roses, right? Burial expenses are about fifteen grand, all told. Her burial expenses come out of her life insurance, under the will. You were her beneficiary.”
    Mike hadn’t even thought of it. Bob had drafted their wills, powers of attorney, and their living wills. “Okay, whatever.”
    “I bought a burial plot, which fits two people, and I can be reimbursed by the estate. FYI, we ran an obit and a funeral notice, too.”
    “Thanks. I appreciate everything, really.”
    “I know.” Bob touched him on the shoulder. “Clean up downstairs, so Sara doesn’t see it like that. Don’t tell her about the drinking. We didn’t tell her.”
    “I don’t like keeping secrets. I forget them.” Mike’s head thudded. “Anyway, haven’t we had enough secrets?”
    “So what are you saying?” Bob frowned. “You’re gonna tell Sara, ‘hey, your best friend was a drunk’? Why speak ill, and she’ll tell Danielle. Keep it to yourself.”
    “But what does Sara think about how Chloe died? She won’t understand why Chloe didn’t call 911.”
    “Sara didn’t question Chloe’s death. Sara thinks