He’d resorted to snooping through Saturday’s mail where it lay untouched on the kitchen counter.Right on top was an envelope with the church’s name and a PO box for the return address, and then the electric bill, addressed to Carl as if he were still alive. Only twenty-four electric bills ago, Carl had still lived under this roof. Miranda wasn’t far removed from his daily influence. And what an influence it had been.He must have had some good qualities though or she wouldn’t have married him. Ava, lost to divorce instead of death, had some fine qualities and sometimes Jack remembered her with a pang of bittersweet regret that was close kin to the taste of new love.Standing at the kitchen counter with the envelopes in his hand, he tried to remember Miranda as she’d looked on the day Carl came home from work and found her chatting with a visitor. Carl had waded into an innocent conversation with the verbal equivalent of a swift uppercut to the jaw, but he’d aimed his first swing at Miranda, not at Jack.
