Kate spent the holidays with her parents in Peoria. It had been well over a year since she'd last seen them. Mom had lost some weight, dad mostly had abandoned his walker for a cane—he even spoke of resuming his legal practice part-time—and most of her aunts, uncles, and cousins had made themselves known. It had been a delight-filled ten days.

When she returned to LA on the second day of January, she hadn't thought she'd be helping Eli bury his ex-wife, but she did so. Beyond holding his hand, however, there was nothing much to do. That day had been some months in the planning, and all that had been wanting was the guest of honor. The services, if in fact they could be called such, only lasted a few minutes. Besides, Kate, Eli, and the minister, only two people attended. To Eli's great surprise, two cousins of Britt's, the Forte sisters, Erica and Lacey, had arrived unannounced. From the moment of their arrival, both had been thoroughly candid in their dislike for Britt Langford, but also had shown great and, Kate thought, honest sorrow for her piteous end.

There was nothing approximating a wake, but Eli invited the sisters to lunch following the services. It was a cordial affair, with Eli joining the two fiftyish women recollecting their "wild and high-strung" cousin. Kate found the whole thing remarkably dignified and comforting. Few harsh words were spoken of the dead.

Afterward, she and Eli returned to his truck for the drive to his cottage. Her friend was a somewhat more sedate version of his usual self throughout the drive, during which she chatted of home, spoke of people he might know in Peoria, and otherwise attempted to comfort and distract him. It was little enough.

"Can you believe I didn't use to like them?" he said when he finally spoke.

"Who? The Forte sisters?"

"No. I didn't. They just seemed so ... smug and, I dunno, self-righteous. In hindsight, they're probably as close to normal as that family has ever produced, at least in the last century. Fucking idle rich, spending three generations pissing away the money earned by the previous two."

"You said her dad is awful." The notion of a father failing to attend his daughter's funeral was simply unfathomable to Kate. "Is the whole family screwed up?"

"Pretty much. There's a younger brother who's a fugitive ... got in some sort of legal trouble in Thailand," he replied to her glance.

"Oh, jeez ..." she muttered. "Kicking it back in on the Costa Del Sol?"

"Yep, probably. Wealth enough to buy their spoiled brats out of any trouble they might get into breeds a certain swanky sense of entitlement. Britt and her asshole brother were just the culmination of a few generations of that. Self-absorbed and privileged. I used to think the Forte sisters were a couple of prigs and god-botherers. Maybe they saw something the rest of the family didn't."

"Yeah," she said. "That sort of describes the Cyril family, too. Though their wealth doesn't go back so far. Otto's dad made all his coin in import/export after the war. Those people are obsessed with money, especially the butt-fuckers."

The foulmouthed epithet describing her former stepchildren had the desired effect, and he broke into laughter. Eli had taken his ex's death remarkably well, though she couldn't help but think it hurt him in ways he didn't express. Kate would've been shocked had it not. The man beside her was far more sensitive than he would ever let on. It was why she knew he was a keeper.

The rest of the drive and some minutes at his cottage were a theater stage from which she regaled him with more tales of home, of things she'd done and people she'd seen. Only one story elicited a laugh from him. Several former classmates of Kate's had pointed out that Eli and Kate were their classes' respective 'unicorns,' people oft spoken of but never seen.

Her chatter was as much to distract him as anything else, and her yakking extended into things that had happened earlier in December, a month that had come and gone so quickly she'd scarcely had a chance to breathe. Before leaving for the holidays, she'd completed the budget for the film she and the kids were making, hired a consultant to help her build a web presence, and travelled to New York to film the commercial.

"You're going to be okay, aren't you?" she asked as he walked her to her truck for the trip home. She'd be back to LA in a few days for work, and he'd planned a longer visit to her country home in a few weeks. But she worried.

"I'm fine," he said. "The whole thing is sad is all ... and a huge relief."

"Are you feeling guilty for that? Because if you are, you did vastly more than anyone would have ever expected."

"No. Just sad ... at a wasted life."

Kate moved back from the truck door and put her arms around him. She suspected there was more. Why else would his ex-wife have sought out Eli after fifteen years if there hadn't been some unresolved something? The thought didn't trouble her, but she knew it was there.

"Well, if you get to feeling down, you call me," she said in a throaty voice. "I'll come up early."

The two exchanged an affectionate kiss, and she departed.