Chapter 8: The Boxes

On Wednesday afternoon my father sent me to deliver a box of storm window hinges to Gabe's house.

"He ordered them a month ago," Wim said from the key machine stool. "Bernie forgot."

"Bernie never forgets."

"Then she did it on purpose, and I'd like you to go anyway."

So at four I pulled up in front of the yellow house on Cedar Street, with the box on the seat beside me.

I knew the house.

Everybody knew it.

It was where Gabe grew up, and where his mother died, and where he'd lived for the last three years.

The porch had a new rail.

I could tell he'd built it himself, because the corners were too perfect.

A rented van sat in the driveway with its back doors open.

Adele was coming down the front steps with a box in her arms.

It said KITCHEN in black marker.

Gabe followed with another.

I turned off the engine and didn't get out.

I could have.

I told myself it was a good idea to wait until they were finished.

It was, I think, partly true.

They loaded the boxes into the van without talking.

There were not many.

Two years of marriage fit into a dozen boxes, a lamp, and a rocking chair.

When the van was full, Adele pulled the doors shut and leaned against them.

Gabe stood on the driveway with his hands hanging.

The street was very quiet.

A woman across the road was raking leaves, with obvious slowness.

Gabe said, "That's everything."

"That's everything," said Adele.

"The rocking chair's too big. I can drive it over."

"My sister's got a truck. It's fine."

"I'd like to."

"I know." She smiled. "But you don't have to."

He nodded.

Then he said, "Adele, can I say something?"

"Of course."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For all of it." His voice was very even, the way it goes when he's holding something heavy. "For marrying you with half of me."

Keep reading free with an account. Start My Ex-Husband's New Wife Asked Me to Take Him Back from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.