Chapter 6
At home, nearly invisible through an overflowing cloud of lavender-scented bubbles, I reach over the edge of the bathtub for a half-empty bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. I pour the last dregs of wine into my glass.
As I reach down to place the empty bottle back on the floor, I nearly clip Darth Vader on the head as he lies on the damp shower mat next to the claw-footed tub.
Startled, he pulls himself up on all fours and bolts across the room, his nails scraping the tile floor. I feel terrible and I apologize profusely, enticing him back into the room with a smattering of air kisses.
Looking up at me with his sad eyes, I reach down to pat the top of his greying head, soaking the floor around him with suds. “I gave us both a fright. Sorry, buddy.”
I look down into Darth’s aging
