George set the bottle down on the counter and turned to look at Alicia. ''Hello,'' he said with a strained smile that was half genuine, ''thanks for coming.'' He meant it, her coming to see him really did help. Sure, he could almost hear the same sympathies that had been coming from all sides.
''I was just having a little chat,'' he said with a shrug, indicating the urn. His voice was steady if rough, unashamed at being caught talking to his dead brother. ''Can I get you anything? It's been an alcohol sort of day, but I still have real food.''