Mr. Monk Helps Himself Page 23
by Hy Conrad
Who in the world could enjoy sitting inside on a beautiful late afternoon and cleaning lightbulbs? When there was a party to go back to? A party full of friends who loved and admired you and wanted to be with you?
“You’re right. I do. It’s my favorite thing.”
“Good.”
I got up from my chair and he scooted down on the sofa. He passed me a linen polishing rag and we quickly formed our own little obsessive assembly line.
Again we fell into silence. This time it felt much more comfortable. Like old times.
“You know, now that we’re legally in business together, you can call me Mr. Monk. I won’t mind.”
“Sorry, Adrian.”
