Chapter 6
Everyone in the kitchen was awkward, save for Barley. Flynn felt a twinge at the dog appearing to be so at home. He watched as Barley first took a long drink from his water bowl next to the refrigerator. Thirst slaked, Barley wandered over to a well-worn shearling cushion between two cabinets. He turned around on it a few times, farted, and then settled into a deep sleep, all within the space of about a minute and a half.
No one said anything. They all seemed pretty intent on watching the old lady at the kitchen counter, getting their tea ready. She poured the tea into tall glasses filled with ice, then garnished each one with a lemon wedge. Looking deathly serious, she set a glass before each of them and didn’t appear to hear their mumbled thanks.
She put a hand to her forehe
