"Back."
"I'm a side sleeper, so no spooning, I guess."
"What?"
I laughed and turned over on my side. "Good night, Edward."
"Good night, Anita."
We slept.
I WOKE TO country music and my arm flung over someone's stomach. That someone was wearing a T-shirt; no one I slept with wore clothes to bed. I felt that someone move as he rose up and said, "Yes, morning."
The moment I heard his voice I knew it was Edward, and the night came flooding back. Without rising up, I said, "Who is it? Is it another murder?"
"It's Donna," he said.
That made me lift my head and blink at him. It also made me take my arm off his stomach and scootch a little back from him so we weren't touching, as if his fiancée could see as well as hear us.
"It's Anita," he said.
Donna's voice was suddenly loud enough for me to hear it. "What's she doing waking up beside you?"
"There was only one bed."
I buried my face in the pillow. That was so not the answer he should have given.
"Hold on," he said, and he used his phone to take a picture of the mattress and box springs against the window. "I'm sending you a picture that shows what happened to the other bed."