He’d called that morning to offer his condolences and explain that he’d been out of town visiting family and just learned of Sharon’s passing. He asked to meet with Eve as soon as possible because Sharon had given him strict instructions to carry out to the letter. Eve smiled as she imagined her aunt giving that directive to the crotchety old lawyer. Sharon was sweet and compassionate, but she brooked no argument when she’d made up her mind about something. Eve was certain Morris saw that side of his friend when he advised her against taking an action she’d already decided upon. Sharon lived life according to her rules without giving a rip what anyone thought about her, and Eve admired her even more as she struggled to find her own identity again. A soft knock on the door had Eve sitting up straighter in the striped wingback by the stone fireplace. She crossed and uncrossed her legs, cleared her throat, and called out, “Come in.” Morris poked his head in the door, his shock of white hair as unruly as ever.
