Chapter 7Uncle John, Mum, and Dr. Autry were seated at the dining table when I returned from changing. I hadn’t been able to resist adding a splash of aftershave before heading back downstairs.
“I apologize for keeping you waiting.”
Usually Uncle John would castigate me even though I’d apologized, but this time he just smiled, and I couldn’t help shivering in spite of the heat of the unseasonably warm autumn we’d been having.
I sat down and bowed my head while Uncle John said grace. I was surprised it wasn’t as long-winded and vitriolic as usual, and I sent Mum a sideways glance. She shrugged, obviously as puzzled as I.
A tureen of stew sat in the middle of the table. Uncle John always preferred roast chicken on Sundays. Why suddenly stew? And why the silver tureen, only used on my unc
