Irish Coffee by Ralph McInerny

cared for Fred. And wasn’t it sick to be fighting over a dead man?
    At the get-together at the university club Griselda became aware that she was the only member of the team there. Not even Muffin had come from the church to the club. But once she was there she decided to say. For one thing, she was hungry. For another, Roger Knight was there. So she witnessed the little scene at the table where Roger had been sitting with Fred’s parents. She saw Mary take his seat when Roger went to get the old priest some food. And then Naomi showed up at the table and it looked as if there would be a catfight. But the old priest seemed to put a stop to that and Naomi walked away. Griselda watched her showing off to those who crowded around her and drew near. Someone turned, a man with a silly expression that got sillier when he saw her.
    â€œGriselda! Hey look, Griselda Novak is here.”
    The circle re-formed around her, with Naomi McTear a member of it, no longer the center. Griselda had a sweet feeling of revenge, for what she didn’t know, but she did like these fans to be fussing over her rather than the sidelines color reporter from cable television.
    â€œGriselda is the guard of the half century,” the man with the silly expression said to Naomi.
    â€œI love to watch you play,” Naomi said.
    â€œIt’s only a game.”
    Everyone laughed. Is this the way people behaved after a funeral? But then look at herself, trying to score points against Naomi. The reporter did have a way of flashing her great big diamond.
    â€œYou’re right,” Naomi said. “Most of you have lost a friend. I have lost the man I intended to marry.”
    The circle re-formed and Griselda slipped away. It was difficult to say who was worse, Naomi or Mary.
    â€œYou knew Fred, didn’t you?”
    Griselda turned, and there was Mary Shuster.
    â€œOf course.”
    â€œYou play basketball.”
    â€œIn my spare time.”
    Under her black mantilla, Mary’s face softened. “We met at the Knights’ apartment.”
    â€œI remember.”
    â€œYou came in with Fred.”
    â€œWe’d been to dinner at Parisi’s.”
    â€œDid you do a lot of that?”
    â€œNot enough. But don’t tell his fiancée.”
    â€œShe isn’t, you know.”
    â€œHer diamond could have fooled me.”
    â€œIt’s meant to.”
    â€œShe isn’t his fiancée?”
    â€œIt’s a long story.”
    â€œYou’ll have to tell me sometime.”
    â€œHow about now? I want to go home and change out of this dress.”
    â€œYou’re through mourning?”
    Tears formed in Mary’s eyes and ran down her cheeks. She turned away.
    â€œPlease. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
    Mary shrugged. Griselda took her arm and guided her through the room to the front lobby of the club.
    â€œI’ll go with you. I want to hear all about it.”
    When they came outside, Griselda asked, “Is your car here?”
    â€œOh, we can walk. We live in Harter Heights.”
    Griselda looked blank.
    â€œIt’s just off Angela Boulevard.”
    They set off. Most of the snow had melted now and as they passed Cedar Grove, Griselda said, “Isn’t it odd that we didn’t accompany the body to the cemetery?”
    â€œNot in the circumstances.”
    â€œI don’t understand.”
    â€œThen you haven’t heard. They fear that Fred’s death was not due to natural causes.”
    â€œNo!”
    Was this among the things that Mary had offered to tell her? They went on in silence while Griselda contemplated the implications of Mary’s astounding remark. The sun was shining fitfully but a stiff breeze was in their faces when they turned onto Angela. “It’s not far,” Mary said, raising her voice against the wind.
    Griselda nodded and ducked her head. Not due to natural causes. What did that mean? And then