He rubbed his chin and felt his whiskers prickle the pads of his fingers. Premature five-o’clock shadow would raise questions. “What’s with the chin whiskers, Lido? You moonlighting as a porn star?” On and on it would go, one snide comment followed by another and another. His eyes burned from a night of fitful sleep, yet somehow he found the reserve to lather and drag a razor across his face. Everything around him was a reminder that his wife was gone: the fragrance that still lingered on her pillow and the conspicuous absence of undergarments he routinely found on the floor in the morning. He saw her in Max’s smile when he fed him breakfast and when he tucked him in at night. Even his gun was alone when he retrieved it from the lockbox, where the two firearms normally rested side by side. Ma had been a rock, caring for Max, cooking, shopping, cleaning, and keeping the family together during a very difficult time. She’d temporarily moved in to help during Stephanie’s recovery and then stayed to help during her absence.
