Luke disappears in the fields behind the
house, one of the paper grocery bags in hand to gather the ripened
vegetables. I finish putting away the rest of the things Kent
bought in town—the grocery store wasn’t the only place he stopped,
and I pretend I don’t notice the bottles of Jim Beam and Mad Dog
and Cuervo even as I put beneath the sink, I ignore the labels on
the beer cans as I stow them on the lowest shelf of the fridge. I
find the showerhead, hidden beneath rice and beef in one bag, and I
consider putting it in myself but think better of it. Kent bought
it, he’ll want to play the man and install the thing, that’s just
the way he is. So I leave it on the kitchen table, fold the bags up
and stash them in one of the cabinets, then straighten Luke’s
sheets on the couch.
Wi
