They ate grilled steaks and fried potatoes at the kitchen table and when it came time for cake, Ryder opened three fresh Pabsts, though Leo wanted milk. Outside, a light rain fell through the trees and steam rose from the barbecue top next to Jim’s Valiant. Jim cleared the table and set the cake down in the center. He pulled off the plastic dome, stuck in eighteen candles, then lit them with his lighter. “Now, wait right here.”

Leo could hear the two men in the parlor, the echo of Jim’s guitar box, and he pictured his father slipping the Mexican guitar strap over his head. He heard Ryder whisper pretty loud, “C?” and he thought of the two of them with Katie Faye in the parking lot of the Wrangler in Texas, giggling and hugging and promising each other how they’d never quit. He thought of how wonderful it was of his mother to write all that down, and then Jim walked in playing his rosewood guitar, singing “Happy Birthday,” Ryder following behind with a sweet Harp of the Blues backup.

Only Lars and his cousin Cody showed up, but that was fine with Jim and Ryder, who had said many times before that a five-man game was ideal. It was past eight and getting dark. While Jim set up the round card table under the overhead kitchen light, Ryder broke out the red, white, and blue plastic poker chips and sold them at a nickel, dime, and quarter to the men and Leo. Leo bought five dollars’ worth after he saw Ryder do that for himself. Lars took his usual chair close to the refrigerator door. His bald head shined and he was tanned from a week-long vacation he said he’d just taken with his wife and kids out there on Cape Cod.

“Spent all day in the sun drinking cold ones, you boneheads.” He finished shuffling and passed the deck to his right for Ryder to cut. “When are you guys taking some damn time off? That friggin’ mill work’s taking its toll on us.”

“I don’t know how you fellas do it.” Cody sat between Lars and Leo.

“My cousin here’s an authority on indoor work. Teaches high school all day.”

Jim sat on his tall guitar stool between his son and Ryder. “I used to build fences in Texas. Working through wind, rain, and that damn sun never thrilled me. I’ll take a clean dry job any time.”

Ryder pushed the deck back to Lars, who started dealing.

“The game’s five stud, nickel ante.”

“Red’s nickel?” Cody looked up and scanned everyone’s faces. Leo didn’t think he looked much like his cousin. Cody had thick brown hair he kept short on the sides and puffy on top, and his brown eyes had a gentle light in them, smart too.

“Red, white, and blue,” Ryder said. “Nickel, dime, quarter. Easy as that, buddy.”