“Well, habits are expensive these days,” Brenda said, reaching for her coffee mug. “The utility board is talking about raising the water hookup fees again next month.”
“How much?” I asked.
“Twelve percent for the county road hookups,” she said.
“I will pay the difference when it comes,” I said.
She looked at me for a long second, her eyes narrowing behind her glasses.
“You always were stubborn, Eleanor,” she said.
We met back at the diner on Tuesday afternoon. The lunch crowd had already cleared out, leaving only a couple of truck drivers arguing about diesel prices near the cash register.
Garrett seemed quiet during our meal, barely touching his egg salad sandwich. He kept checking his watch, the heavy gold band catching the fluorescent light from the ceiling.
“I have to meet with the bank manager at three,” he said, sliding his plate away. “Just some routine updates on the estate trust.”
“You look tired, Garrett,” I said.
“Just the weather,” he said, giving me his crooked smile. “The damp gets into my joints these days.”
“You should see Dr. Evans,” I said.
