Blythe House remembered ushering John onto his train, tuning out his usual complaints about how trains were too slow and how some idiot was going to do some such thing that would surely make him late. She remembered turning away from the distinctly normal-looking Amtrak train and having the idea to go to the market to buy herself some vegetables
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She chuckled and reached out to shake his hand. "Blythe House."
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"Damien Thorn," he said. "Your son sounds very clever. How old is he, five?"
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"Let me guess, insurance agent?" Damien said, masking his look of surprise with a question about her son. "But enough about him," he said, changing the subject. "What do you do, when you aren't fussing over him or the husband mentioned in your application?"
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She favored him with a bland smile and stuck out her hand. "But it was interesting meeting you, if not at all pleasurable. I suppose we might see more of each other, but as that seems like it'll be unpleasant, I'm sure it's best if we just endeavor to avoid one another as best we can."
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