Chapter 44

Paint falls off the overhangs like corn chips. I’m scraping while Muller does the window frames. From my perch, I see manicured lawns and hydrangeas swinging in the breeze. It’s one of those days when I don’t feel rattled. Maybe it’s the sun, or knowing this house will soon match its surroundings. Maybe I’m learning to appreciate careful maintenance and a good hedge trimmer.

Ruby comes outside with a cigarette going. I’ve cut back myself. Hauling a ladder the other day, I thought I was going to pass out. I’ve been making Muller do the heavy lifting. He huffs and puffs, complaining he’s got a bad shoulder, but I caught him last night moving the oxygen tank closer to his cot. Now he’s working the heat gun like a hair dryer.

Ruby comes and stands at the base of the ladder. She looks up with one hand shielding her eyes. “Good job, Sam,” she says. “We’ll be done in the bedrooms this afternoon. How about out here?”

“Everything’s pretty much stripped.”

Muller speeds up when he sees her watching. “You’re in fine form today, Muller,” she says.

“Anything to get the job done, Ruby.”

“That’s what I like to see.”

When she goes back inside, Muller leans against the ladder. “What are you stopping for?” I say.

“I got something in my eye.”

“Your eye was fine a minute ago.”

“I should go wash it out.”

“Use the garden hose.”

“Sam, did you ever cheat on Mary?”

“No, I didn’t, Muller.”

“Did she ever cheat on you?”

“No.”

“Is it possible?”

“Why are you asking?”

“Just want to know.”

“You’re a dummy, you know that?”

“It’s a simple question, Sam.”

“I haven’t cheated because I don’t want to cheat. Okay?”

“And Mary feels the same way?”

“How would I know?”

“Haven’t you ever talked about it?”

“No, we haven’t talked about it. Why, have you seen anyone slipping out of our house?”

“No.”

“Then go wash your eye out, for chrissake.”

He turns on the house and flushes his eye. Then he’s lapping water like a dog.