Mohawk

Starting today. Right now.”
    “Have you been reading Dickens?”
    Definitely better to ignore her. Her remarks never made any sense. “Could you give Loraine a job?”
    “Loraine who?”
    “Sister-in-law, who’d you think?”
    “Are you drunk?”
    “Exactly. But would you?”
    “Dallas—”
    “Please. I won’t bother you again. Ever.”
    “That’s ridiculous. Of course you will. You bother everyone.”
    “If she came to the store, could you find something?”
    “I don’t know. Maybe.”
    “Great,” Dallas turned to go. “Go’night.”
    His ex-wife’s voice followed him. “You disappointed your son today.”
    Dallas shook his head. “No. He doesn’t care ’bout me. Wish he did.”
    “Maybe he’d like the new you better.”
    Dallas hadn’t considered this, and was cheered even more.
    “In the meantime, you owe my father a new window. Should he put it on your tab?”
    “Yes. I mean, I owe one. You’ll never get another husband, you know.”
    “Thanks for the advice.” The window slammed shut,the rest of the broken glass falling around him before the light went out.
    The remainder of the broken glass fell around him. Dallas was still excited, but the euphoria of alcohol was beginning to wear off so he alternated jogging and walking all the way to Loraine’s. Despite the time, now nearly four in the morning, a light was on in the living room. Actually, it was just the television, all snow. Loraine answered the door right away and didn’t seem at all surprised. “Come in,” she said. “I guess Thanksgiving lasted a little longer than I planned.”
    For a moment Dallas took her literally. Her hair was fixed and she was dressed in a ruffled blouse, skirt and heels. She was a little wobbly. But there was no one else there and just the one glass beside the bottle on the old, ringed coffee table. All this he ignored. “I’ve got everything figured,” he said.
    “Then keep it to yourself,” Loraine said. “I’m still figuring. Stuck at the beginning. Don’t take all the fun out of it.”
    Did it always have to be this way with women, Dallas wondered. Didn’t they ever want to listen? Did they always have to say things nobody could make any sense out of? “Just let me—” he began.
    But he didn’t get any farther. Loraine did the strangest thing any strange woman had ever done to him. Instead of letting him help her, instead of letting him tell her about it, she slapped him in the face. Hard, too, so hard it cleared his head.
    “I feel like hell, Dallas. Can’t you see I feel like hell?”
    “I wanted to give you some good news,” Dallas said weakly, now unsure that
any
news of his was likely tobe good. Anne had been right. It was his destiny to bother people. If he’d learned anything in all the years, he should have learned to pay attention to Anne when she said things like that.
    “I don’t want any part of good news,” she said. “I want to feel like hell. Can’t you understand?”
    “Yes.”
    “You’re just saying that. You aren’t smart enough to feel like hell yourself, or even understand when somebody else does.”
    This struck Dallas as unfair, especially in view of the fact that he himself had been feeling like hell so recently. Apropos of feeling miserable, he said “I saw the flowers—” but then, for a moment, thought Loraine was going to hit him again.
    “Just shut up,” she said quietly. “For once in your stupid life, don’t be stupid. David adored you, but he was right. About most things you’re dumb as hell.”
    Which sounded like the sort of thing Anne would say, and Dallas guessed Loraine was probably right. But he was confused, just the same. Not by what she said, but the way she said it, her voice soft and sad. He didn’t understand until she came close. “Don’t be dumb for once,” she said, her breath musky like the flowers on her husband’s grave. “Just be kind.”
    He was too surprised and scared to kiss back when she kissed him. But he knew that he wasn’t supposed to step away. He might not be smart, but he was certain of that much. As usual, he thought, just when I’ve got everything figured, it turns out I had it all wrong. Like cards, there was always something you didn’t count on. Usually something bad. Good things you didn’t count on were something new. If this
was
a good thing. The more she kissed him, the more he wondered if it mightjust be. Anyway, it didn’t mean he couldn’t paint the house and fix the