The answer bothered me because he had begun with “I should have” so many times lately, and this time he did not.
He folded the calendar closed.
“I’ll ask Vivian.”
“Not tonight.”
He looked at me.
“Why not?”
“Because I want Karen to tell me what Vivian says when she thinks nobody is checking.”
Daniel opened his mouth, then shut it.
I gathered the calendars into one stack.
The delivery was Friday.
Karen was being placed somewhere at the hospital before that day arrived.
I still did not know what Vivian expected her to do there.
At 8:10, Daniel stood beside the Buick at the
end of the driveway, filling the tank while I checked the hospital bag against my list. The receipt from the grocery store was still tucked under the magnet on the refrigerator inside, the total visible through the kitchen window.
“Three shirts,” I said. “Two blankets. Toiletries.”
