the scowl on Lenny’s at the same time.
“Okay then,” he said, still playing with the cap in his hands.
There was a moment’s pause which Lenny broke. “The meter musta run out by now,” he grumbled.
Jack shot Lenny a look that silenced him. Roslyn was beginning to feel uncomfortable. “Maybe you could pop around sometime tomorrow,” she suggested. “I think we need to talk about…well, things.”
“What time?” Jack asked.
She shrugged. “Sophie’s coming to help clean and go through some things with me. Maybe around eleven?”
“Good. Eleven.” He nodded enthusiastically, then put the cap back onto his head. “Okay, then. Tomorrow at eleven.”
“Geez, Uncle Jack,” Lenny interjected. “You’ve already said that a hundred times.”
Jack ignored his nephew and held out his right hand. Surprised by the sudden gesture, Roslyn placed hers in his.
“That’s good. That we’re going to talk, I mean,” Jack murmured, staring down into Roslyn’s eyes and clasping her hand gently in his.
Lenny sputtered something. Finally, Jack released her hand and, with Lenny tugging at his right elbow, began to move off down the street.
“Good grief,” mumbled Roslyn. “What a pair.” But her hand was still tingling when she placed it on the door to push it open.
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