It was dusk by the time everything was inside and some of Major’s household basics were set up. There was a couch to sit on and three glasses to drink from. That was all we needed right then, except, perhaps, some illumination and a cool breeze. I flipped the switch by the door. The ceiling fan came on, but no lights.
“I have bulbs in…right here.” Everything was marked. Major was very efficient and found the blister pack of candelabra bulbs in only seconds.
“Let me,” I offered.
“I’ll get the stepstool.”
“Naw. Come on, Maj. I’ll just stand on the couch. I can reach.” I couldn’t. “The arm…I’ll stand on the arm.”
“Mick…” Abby cringed as I put my arms out for balance.
“I got this. Hand me the bulb.”
Major passed it like a scrub nurse giving the surgeon his cutting tool.
“Thank you.” I
