Ethel regretted her lunch invitation to Edgar. It had been her good deed for the day, since the man looked half-starved. She thought a warm meal would be welcome. Which it might be, but there seemed to be a communication problem. During her brief chats at the mailbox with him, she’d never noticed a hearing issue, but today he either didn’t respond when she spoke or completely misunderstood her. 

“Branch?” Edgar frowned. “Why would I want a branch with my salad?”

She waved the plastic bottle of ranch dressing around. “I said RANCH.”

He held his hand out. “Well, if you’re going to make me eat this rabbit food, at least it’ll taste better.” 

Ethel rolled her eyes. The tossed salad was the starter. She wasn’t foolish enough to think it would fill the old codger — or fatten him. Right, time to change the subject. His son was a safer topic, anyway.

“How’s Fred?” 

“Dead? Wouldn’t be here if I was.” He laughed, revealing a piece of red lettuce stuck to his front tooth.

No point telling him. 

“I suppose I wouldn’t have invited a dead man to lunch.”

“What’s that? You’re muttering, Ethel. Something bothering you?”

Just you. “How are you?” She was yelling across the small kitchen table now.

“Alive.” He chuckled. “Like yourself.”

Never mind. She fetched the platter of roast beef and offered him some. 

Edgar scratched his ear and froze. “Appears I forgot to remove my earplugs this morning.” He pulled one out. “Dog snores.” 

Word: branch | Action: annoying