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By Root 297 0

taller than Ray, in his late thirties or early forties; it was harder and harder for Ray to tell anything except that someone was more or less his age. People under fifty looked like young people and people under thirty looked like children. The man stood up politely and shook Ray’s hand. He shook it twice, not the hard handshake that even men Ray’s age gave one another just to show they were still in the game, but a very gentle, slow handshake as if he was mindful of Ray’s osteoporosis or arthritis or some other damned thing that would make Ray’s hand crumble in his like an Egyptian relic. The man was clearly not thinking, So, this is the competition; he was thinking, Poor old Uncle Ray, or even poor Grandpa Ray, Civil War veteran. Nurse, get this man a chair. Ray walked out and across town to the office of Ferrante and Ticknor, Attorneys-at-Law. He walked along the narrow, cluttered river that ran through the park.

In Leo Ferrante’s office, Ray cleared his throat and Leo put his hand up.

“Don’t,” he said.

“What, you’re psychic?” Ray said.

Leo said he was sorry, that in the past three days he’d had two old friends come in to divorce their wives and marry hot chicks.

“I wouldn’t call her a hot chick,” Ray’d said.

Macy leaned forward, her face in her hands, lit up with the thought of Ray’s love for Randeane. She looked about twelve years old.

“You deserve happiness, Ray.”

“And Eleanor? What about her happiness?”

Macy did not say that Eleanor’s happiness was of no account to her.

Ray said, “Someone’s got to speak up for Ellie,” and he looked around Buck’s as if the gold-haired bartender or the young couple might say something on Ellie’s behalf. Like: Goddammit, that woman has—in her own way—devoted herself to you. Or maybe the bartender would say, Leave Ellie and your children will turn their backs on you. They think you’re a good man. Leave Ellie to shack up with a young lady from the coffee shop, half your age. No fool like an old fool. Ray turned back to Macy but he could still hear the bartender and Leo Ferrante talking to him. Your prostate alone’s enough to scare her off; you gotta get a guest room just to keep it somewhere. And your suitcase of Viagra and Levitra and don’t forget the Allopurinol and the Amlodipine and the Flomax, without which you’ll never piss again. And why shouldn’t she want children, young as she is? She could have them with that tall, good-looking man, Ray heard the bartender say, and he looked at her and she winked, gold powder sparkling on her eyelids and cheekbones, shining across her breasts. She brought them another pair of beers and a bowl of nuts.

“Do you have any food?” Macy said.

“What do you like?” the woman said.

Macy looked around and she sniffed the air.

“Catfish, maybe,” she said.

The woman shrugged pleasantly. “For two? Sweet-potato fries? Butter beans?”

“I have died and gone to heaven,” Macy said, and she almost clapped her hands.

“I don’t think I can eat all that,” Ray said.

“I love it. I’ll bring some home for Neil. Like they say, so good, makes you want to slap yo’ mama.” Macy took a sip of beer and smiled. “Sammy was a great cook. Actually, I’m a great cook.”

Turned on a dime, Ray thought. Two hours ago, she was going to hang herself in the garage because Neil didn’t know her essence; now she’s bringing him a Southern fried feast and they’ll eat in bed. Laughing. Ray thought of Randeane and his heart clenched so deeply, he put his hands on the table.

“You should bring some home for him. I really can’t eat that stuff anymore,” he said. “Call him. Tell him you’re coming home. Don’t be afraid to tell him about your mother and about Sammy. He’ll admire you for that stuff. For getting past it.”

“Okay,” Macy said, biting her lip. “You really think so?” She took out her phone and checked her text messages.

“He’s still at work,” she said, grinning like a kid. “He’s not even worrying.” She texted Neil and showed Ray: B home soon, w fab dinner. Love u so.

A big man came out of the kitchen and laid their food in front of them. He nodded toward the game on TV.