Chapter 24: One More Summer

The apartment was on the second floor above the hardware store, with one big window facing west.

Rhonda put the key in my hand on the last Saturday in October.

"It's got a stove that works," she said. "And a landlord who owes me a favor. Don't thank me."

"I'm going to thank you."

"Then do it fast. I've got a truck full of your boxes and a bad knee."

I hugged her.

She smelled of coffee and dog shampoo, and she held on harder than I had expected.

"You still work for me Monday," she said into my hair.

"I know."

"Six o'clock. We've got a Great Dane with a sock in him."

"I'll be there at five-thirty."

"Good girl."

Brice came up the stairs with a box in each arm and a third one balanced on his head.

"Where do you want the one that says KITCHEN, and the one that says KITCHEN?"

"The first KITCHEN goes in the kitchen."

"And the second?"

"Also the kitchen. I labeled them in a hurry."

"I can see that."

He set the boxes down and looked around the empty room.

He still counted.

I had seen him do it in the doorway, his eyes moving from window to window, corner to corner, one two three.

"What are you counting?" I asked.

"Exits."

"For what?"

"Habit." His mouth did the small thing. "Two. Front and back. That's good."

"Brice."

"Hm?"

"Come here."

He crossed the floor, and I took the last box off the stack myself, the small tin one that I had carried in my own hands from the truck.

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