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By Root 734 0

And then he spots it, there, next to a sagging red barn, parked close in, on the side, to keep it out of the way of the other old cars in the narrow dirt driveway. Two windowless sheds connect the barn to a small white house. The house is in darkness. He parks down the road, walks back, tools in hand. The first screw spins right off The second one is rust-frozen so he tries twisting the license plate against it. Suddenly, a light glares from behind and he hits the ground. An old pickup rattles into the driveway. The motor dies, lights next, though no one gets out. He sees the long flare of a cigarette tip over the wheel. The door creaks open and a man slides out. He drops the butt, grinds it under his boot toe. He closes the truck door slowly, then creeps into the house. No lights go on inside. Eddie waits. Then he reaches up, twisting and pulling on the plate until it finally rips free, but the jagged metal corner slices deeply between his thumb and forefinger. Doesn't hurt, though. The sting of cold air at his torn flesh feels good, tells him he's alive, as he runs back to the car with his new plate. Action. Eddie at his best.

his is so nice,” Nora says as she pours her second cup of coffee. Ken has assigned someone, Bibbi's daughter, actually, to work on the Medical supplement. Jessica Bond is a pleasant enough young woman but easily bewildered. Nora knows she should get into the office early, but it's a rare weekday morning that finds her family together at breakfast. Some peace has been restored, however strained. Drew has apologized for the other night, though he and his father are still barely speaking. By the time she returned from her meeting, Drew was back home. Ken had found him alone at a back table in Starbucks. Nursing a glass of water because he didn't have any money on him: naturally, Ken added with withering scorn. More and more lately, she is alarmed by his harshness toward Drew and their constant tension, as if Ken is the wounded party, as if Drew has somehow harmed him.

Chloe's phone is ringing in her pocket. She checks the number, then runs from the kitchen, grinning.

“Since when do we take calls at the table?” Ken asks, folding the business section next to his cereal bowl. In the past this would have been Nora's censorious line, played to Ken's no-big-deal shrug.

“She didn't. She left,” Drew says, jaw clenched, waiting.

Ken ignores him, continues reading. He looks drawn, almost despondent, the way he's been for days. It's the paper, he assures her, particularly his cousin, undermining his authority. On Monday, Stephen called a board meeting without bothering to tell him. She'd never seen Ken so angry or so humiliated. The emotional storms of these last few weeks are finally taking their toll. Strange, though, how those years of his affair still seem their happiest as a family. A kind of mania, really, living as they did in an almost constant state of gusto, exuberance, the house filled with friends, laughter, especially Ken's. Her third child, she often joked. And yet, with his life so tenuously balanced, how could he have been, or even seemed, so carefree, so guiltless? Because he had everything. He did, didn't he? As long as no one pierced the bubble, the illusion of happiness was more than enough.

“Finish up, Drew. You don't want to be late,” she says, uneasy with his brooding.

“I'm not the driver. Tell her,” he says, nodding toward the other room.

“Her?” Ken snaps. “You mean Chloe?”

Drew's snarl is lost as Chloe rushes in to the table, sobbing. Joe Turcotte is dead, she cries. Killed in Iraq, and he's only nineteen. Max just told her. That's terrible, Nora says, unable to place the name. Chloe is devastated. She's not sure, she says when her father asks where he's from. Leesboro, she thinks, but he and Max were friends from camp. They bunked in the same cabin every summer until they were fourteen.

“And now he's dead. Just like that. I can't believe it,” she gasps.

“You didn't even know him,” Drew mumbles into his coffee.

“That's not the point. That's so not the point,” Chloe says.