Out of the shower, dressed, my clothes
scooped up from the floor and shoved into the washer, I rummage
through the kitchen looking for something to cook for dinner. This
is my job, this is what I do in exchange for the food, the room,
the job behind the register. I cook, and I keep the house clean,
and I do the laundry, women’s work but Kent doesn’t do it, he had a
girl who used to come in twice a week before I showed up. What’s
going to happen when I tell him about Luke? Am I going to
tell him?
I have to. I have to.
But he’s not here, it’s just me in the house
right now, I won’t think about it. I find noodles in the cabinet, a
jar of tomato sauce behind a bottle of Jim Beam—spaghetti tonight.
What will Kent do if I’m not here to cook for him? To keep track of
his expenses, h
