I handed him the remote, and he made himself comfortable in the recliner, tuning in to Monday Night Football on the TV.
“Sorry I’m leaving you with her like this.”
“It’s no problem,” my mother said. “Have a good time!”
“Thanks!” I said.
I threw on my winter coat and mittens and went outside into the bitter cold. Flurries danced in the air. The Jersey shore area was in a deep freeze with sub-zero temperatures outside.
Kathy was already at a high top, drinking a Belvedere and tonic when I arrived. She was wearing a crimson-colored shirt, which looked good against her pale skin and short blonde hair.
“Rough day?” I asked her.
“Mondays are always rough,” she said.
“Anything you want to talk about?”
“No, it’s nothing worth mentioning. It’s just busy at work.”
“So spill. What is this gossip you have?”
“Did you hear the news about the Clerk of Coral Beach?”
“No. Vinny Buttiglieri, right?”
“Yeah, that’s him. He died.”
“Really?” I asked, shocked. “That’s so sad. He was young, right? I met him several times at classes I took, but I didn’t know him well. How did he die?”
“He was in his forties. The police found him washed up on the banks of the Delaware River near the Bordentown Yacht Club. Someone had shot him.”
“Ugh, that’s awful! Did they catch anyone?”