Al called to tell Evan that he and Fiona were getting divorced. Fiona filed.
It was early, too early for any phone call, and Evan didn’t know what to say.
As Evan began to clear his throat to croak out a sorry, Al said “sometimes life just doesn’t work out how ya planned it.”
In his head, Evan’s sorry turned into a yeah, no shit. He said “sorry” anyway, wished Al good luck, and hung up.
Evan walked down the stairs.
Breakfast was on the table.
Full place setting.
Cloth napkin.
Fresh cut flowers in a vase that had some sort of historical significance. It had belonged to Gerald Ford’s family?
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