Chapter 13R
ita waits at the window until the taillights of Vince’s car disappear. She builds up the waning fire. Connie lies on her side on the couch staring into the flames. After feeding the girls and putting them to bed, Rita clears the dinner dishes and leaves them in the sink to soak. She locks the doors, turning off all the lights except the night light in the hallway and the bulb in the metal hood over the stove. She unfurls an afghan from the cedar chest and with a snap of her wrists fans it into a fragrant cloud that settles over Connie from chin to toes.
She collapses on the floor facing the hearth, her back resting against the sofa not far from Connie’s belly. “How’s the weebling?”
“Quiet for a change.”
“How are you?”
Connie lets out a long breath. “Have you ever seen one
