The first thing I noticed was the red pickup truck sitting there. Carmine's? It had to be. Carmine with a pickup truck. Funny thing was that I could almost remember a time when Carmine had talked about owning a truck. Was that a memory? I believed it was. I turned off the ignition, got my purse and jacket and sat there in my car, trying to get up the courage to go inside.For the first time, I realized that I hadn't thought to fix anything ahead of time for dinner. Should I have stopped for take-out? Should I have fixed something? What did Carmine like now? Had his tastes changed sine he was on his own? I shook my head and decided that I was just stalling, looking for any reason to not go inside my own home.I walked slowly to my door, used my key to open it and walked in, dropping my keys and my jacket where I always did. I was hesitating; afraid to look up and see him standing there. How did I know he would be standing? He always stood when I came into the house. Always! He always. " Quit joking. I am being serious Ray." I don't want to be serious. Maybe she is in a hot spring in Iceland with some guy named Stefan or Bjorn." So you don't wonder?" I didn't say that. Would it be easier to think that she is a drunken bag lady scraping soda cans together to buy a litre of booze with nickels overflowing the bowl of her hands? Or dead in the grave 2 behind and 1 over from Chuck. So close that I could hear an earthworm feasting but far enough away that I didn't bother to look. Why can't she be the head gardener for the Rose Garden at the White House?"They were lying on their backs staring at the ceiling talking to each other as the words would drift like clouds in the sky. She turned to her side to face him, her face cupped in her palm as her elbow supported her head. He glanced over and watched the pensive look that crossed her face. Her chin crinkled as her lips pursed and then she flopped back onto the bed."My dad is the Weight Guesser for a small traveling carnival.
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