Eric Stern, who had lived the life of Jack Morgan for two full weeks, drove home, or what had been home for Eric Stern.
As he entered the vestibule of the building, there, waiting for the elevator were Anne and Heidi, his wife and daughter!
What great timing! he thought.
He stood looking at them, but they didn’t see him.
“I bet that slob hasn’t washed a dish.” His wife sneered.
“I hate being back here.” Heidi replied.
“So do I. But it won’t be for long,” his wife announced with an arch look at his daughter, who conspiratorially nodded.”If he’s home, just go to your room. If he’s not there–.”
Eric turned his back as if he were looking at mail boxes as his daughter snapped;
“Oh, he won’t be home, he’ll be at work,” as if work was an unsavoury location.
As the elevator noisily stopped and they entered, he took a breath, then whistling a tune, went to his spiffy car and drove back to Lake George.