Smiley circled the house twice. The first to check for any unlocked doors or windows. The second because Martha was crying and she couldn’t be convinced nothing was wrong.
Back at the front door she was still crying so Smiley kicked the door in. He was as shocked as Martha when he succeeded on the first try.
Grandpa sat in his easy chair as lifeless as the sitcom he was no longer watching. Smiley counted the empty beer bottles. Martha counted the empty pill bottles. Neither the police nor the ambulance guys cared about the bottles. “He was 97, right?”