There’s nothing worse than spending the night with you, he said. Reminds me of old times. The fighting and fussing. Plates and pictures thrown against walls. A table turned over.

We were young, she said. Mistakes were made.

Yes.

Snow had turned to ice. Salt trucks would not be out until morning. Their teenage son slept down the hall.

You  could’ve left earlier, she told him. Just drop him off and go.

The storm was coming, he quietly yelled. I should’ve waited till tomorrow.

You get him for a weekend.  That’s what you get. She put coffee in the filter and added water.

I’m sorry.

Don’t let it happen again.

I can’t control the weather, he said to her as he lit a cigarette. Do you mind?

Help yourself. She pushed away smoke.

I forgot.  You quit.

Yeah.

Quit drinking, too?

I have. One day at a time.

Nobody likes a quitter. He smiled.

There’s blankets in the hall closet and a pillow on the couch. If you wanna stay up and have coffee, go ahead. I’m going to bed. She poured a glass of water and looked for aspirin in the cabinets. Don’t expect breakfast. I suspect you’ll be gone when he wakes up. No school tomorrow, probably.

Right. You take care. See you next Friday.

Don’t forget to lock the door.