Suz called a couple of days later. “It’s time to execute. We’re going to Fred Leary’s memorial service.”“How depressing.”“It’s not depressing. It’s an opportunity to turn the Beer Garden triumph into lasting results. It will do you good.”“I’m not seeing how that’s the case. It’s a funeral, not a morning jog.”“Good things always happen to me at funerals. There are lots of single men who need comforting. We can practice what we learned on Friday night.”“You’ve got to be kidding me.”“Did I steer you wrong before?”Hayley didn’t answer. The truth was, she did feel anxious to get out of the house. She’d spent the day slumped on her black IKEA couch wrapped in her charcoal-gray, pin-striped Calvin Klein comforter watching her black television. The grayscale environment was beginning to depress even her.“Look, the paper says Fred’s thing starts in an hour. I’ll come pick you up. Oh, and put on some cute high heels. You’ll need something that really shows off your calves.
