Chapter 25
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The drive to Mrs. Duran’s is a familiar one—it should be, I made it every day for years to pick Riley up on my way home from work. This past week, I caught myself signaling to turn down her street sometimes, even with Riley in the car, instead of taking the shorter route home and bypassing Mrs. Duran’s altogether.
I wonder if I should warn Riley that that’s where we’re going. Some kids might be scared going to a house where someone died, but Riley isn’t one of them. She’s a lot like I was at her age. Death is all in a day’s work when your father’s a funeral director.
But Riley recognizes the street when I turn down it. When I pass the intersection where I normally turn to go home, Riley turns in her booster seat, keeping the streetlights in view. “Daddy, are we going to Mrs. Duran’s?”
I glance at her in the rearview mirror. “Would that be okay?”