Tribute

pair of serving plates she’d brought in with her instead of just putting them in the sink.
    It felt good, watching through the kitchen window while she washed up, having this quick moment alone. She saw her father still at the grill, with Ford’s father now, and Brian. Buddy and his wife at a picnic table with Tom and Cathy, and Patty stopping by to chat. There was Matt tossing a ball to his little boy while Josie looked on, the baby tucked in her arm.
    Penny was right, Cilla realized with a quick laugh. She and Ford would make gorgeous babies. Something to think about.
    When the phone she had charging on the counter rang, she picked it up with the smile still curving her lips. “This is Cilla. Why aren’t you here?”
    “Ms. McGowan?”
    “Yes. Sorry.”
    “It’s Detective Wilson. I have some information.”
    WHEN FORD CAME IN through the front he saw her standing at the sink, looking out. “Look at us, being hosts. You washing up, me taking out the trash. I loaded a couple of bags in your truck. One of us needs to hit the dump tomorrow.”
    He slipped his arms around her, started to draw her back against him, and felt it immediately. “What is it?” He turned her, scanned her face. “What happened?”
    “Hennessy’s dead. He killed himself. He made a noose out of his own shirt, and—”
    He drew her against him now, hard. She trembled first, then held on. “Oh God, Ford. Oh God.”
    “Some people can’t be saved, Cilla. Can’t be helped.”
    “He never got over it, got past it. What happened to his son. All these years, he had a purpose, and he had his bitterness. But when his son died, all he had was the bitterness.”
    “And it killed him.” He pulled her back, looking into her eyes to be sure she understood just that. “It’s the hate that ended him, Cilla.”
    “I’m not blaming myself. I have to keep saying it, keep thinking it, so I won’t. And I’m not. But there’s no denying I was part of it. He made me part of it. I guess that’s another kind of revenge. His poor wife, Ford. She’s lost everything. And horribly, there’s a part of me that’s relieved.”
    “He hurt you, and he tried to do worse. Do you want some time? I can go out, try to wrap things up.”
    “No. No. He did enough.” She looked back out the window, at the people on her lawn. “He’s not going to ruin this.”
    “FORD, JUST THE MAN I wanted to see.” Gavin handed over the spatula and tongs, then picked up the platter. “Your turn.” With his free hand, he hefted a beer. “And mine.”
    “You sure this younger generation knows how to handle the grill?” Tom asked.
    “We can put you guys down,” Brian responded. “Anytime, anywhere.”
    “I feel a grill-off coming on. But before we get to that, I need to exploit my future son-in-law. I’d like you to come in and talk to my creative writing students.”
    “Oh. Well. Um.”
    “Actually, we’d like to do a three-part, possibly five-part, program on storytelling through words and art. Our art teacher is very excited by the idea.”
    “Oh,” Ford repeated, and had Brian laughing.
    “He’s getting a flashback of high school, where he was president of the Nerd Club.”
    “Three years of being pantsed and recovering from wedgies.”
    “Matt, Shanna and I saved you when we could.”
    “Not often enough.”
    “I give you my word, your ass will not be exposed or abused on my watch.”
    Ford gave Gavin a sour look. “Can I have an armed escort?”
    “We’ll need to work out the details, the dates, and anything you might want or need. I can talk to you about my end of it. You should contact Sharon, the art teacher. She loves your work, by the way. Let me give you her contact information. Ah . . .” He looked at his full hands. “Got anything to write on, with?”
    “No. Gee, I guess we’ll have to forget the whole thing.”
    “I happen to have something.” Grinning, Tom pulled a small leather-bound notebook and short pen out of his pocket. “Sharon, you said?”
    Gavin relayed the information, cocked an eye at Ford when he passed him the sheet. “You do want to marry my daughter, don’t you?”
    “Yeah.” Trapped, Ford stuffed the paper in his pocket.
    “I’m going to deliver this, then I’ll come back and give you the basic overview of what I have in mind.”
    “I should’ve known there’d be strings,” Ford muttered when Gavin strolled away.
    “Get used to it.” Tom clamped a hand on Ford’s shoulder. “And now that