Fred walked more quickly up the driveway, the letter set carefully atop the magazines, grocery flyers, sale offers, and utility bills and held tightly in place with both thumbs.
He set the pile down on the kitchen table, catching the letter just before it threatened to slide off onto the floor. He looked at it closely. It was addressed to Fiona. He bit back the impulse to open it; that was something they just never had done. He decided he'd wait, his nice peaceful day hobbled by anxiety.
Fiona still worked part-time and wouldn't be home until three.