I rub my hands together. “Can we get back to business, please? Anyone have an ex-boyfriend croak recently?” “Just Jimbo,” Sheila says. Evelyn gasps. “Jimbo died? When? How? Why didn’t you say so?” “Talking about Goldie’s online love life is way more exciting than talking about a guy I had three dates with a decade ago.” “Wasn’t Jimbo the one who choked on a crab shell at dinner and then couldn’t stop clearing his throat on your second date?” “That’s him.” “Tell me it wasn’t a crab leg that did him in.” “Hit his head when he fell down a flight of stairs and never woke up again.” There’s a
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