Where did he take off to? He asked. Always leaving. Never puts gas back in the truck. It’s always on E.

Maybe he’s at Cheryl’s house. She said. He spends a lot of time over there.

Does he? Dad asked. I thought that was just a side thing. Thought he spent most of his time at Brandi’s.

The stripper? Lord, I hope not. Mom poured a cup of coffee. She got down a mug for her husband. Stirred in cream and sugar, just the way he likes it.

Strippers. Waitresses. Check-out girls. He’s got them all over town. Dad laughed.

Like the old man before he settled down.

The old man never settled down. Screwed everything in sight. Drank like a fish. Dad took a drink. He was always leaving, too. He’d take off for Dallas. Houston. Remember that time he called mom from New Orleans? Said he just wanted to try the jambalaya. He was a real slippery one. The cat jumped in his lap. He stroked his back. Rubbed its belly.

Get down. Mom said. You know I don’t like him up by the table.

He just needs some loving. That’s all.

Headlights shined through the curtains. A door slammed. Old, rusty metal creaked.

Gotta oil those hinges. Dad said. WD-40.

The boy walked into the house. He’d been gone for two days. His eyes were red. Breath smelled like turpentine. Had a cigarette between his lips. What’re you two looking at? The son asked.

Nothing. Just looking.

You want some coffee? Mother asked.

I’m going to bed. Long night.

Where’d you go? Dad asked.

Nowhere. Just drove around. Looked at trees. Drove down by the lake. Went and saw a movie at the drive-in.

What’d you see? Mom asked.

W.W. And The Dixie Dancekings.

Any good? Dad asked while laughing.

No. I slept mostly through it. 

Did you see Cheryl? Mom took out a dozen eggs and some bacon.

I didn’t see anybody. Just spent time alone. I prefer it that way. Pretty soon, I won’t be able to. 

Why’s that? Dad drank more coffee. Rolled the liquid around in his mouth.

I don’t know. Things change. Won’t be thirty-five forever.

No. Dad said. No, you will not.

The sun was coming up. Light shined on the wet grass. A dog barked. The cat meowed.

Goodnight, the son said.

Goodnight.

He went into his room. The same one he’d had for thirty-five years. Posters of racing cars and pinups adorned the white walls. He pulled out a gun inside his nightstand and ran his fingers over it, and placed it in his mouth. Laughed a little and pulled the trigger.