Leo was lying on the couch listening to a Howling Wolf record when he heard two cars pull up outside. He went into the kitchen to see Jim and Ryder slam their doors and walk up to the step. Ryder’s harmonica harness hung over his shoulder. Under his right arm was a box wrapped in dark blue paper with a silver ribbon. He carried a full case of Pabst cans under his other arm, and Jim carried a white- and yellow-frosted cake covered by a clear plastic dome. Leo could see it was one of Beatrice’s. The dome was shaped like a flying saucer and so was the cake. Leo pushed open the screen door for them, then stepped back into the kitchen. He was still barefoot and wasn’t wearing a shirt, just jeans. He felt suddenly shy and found himself looking right at the floor.

“There’s my Young Buddy, by God.” Ryder put the package and bag on the table, then he walked over and hugged Leo to his chest. One of the harmonica corners poked him in the shoulder and when Ryder patted Leo’s back with his bare hand, Leo pulled away. “Ow, ow.”

“Oh shit, I forgot about that burn. Let’s see it.”

Jim put the cake on the counter, winked at Leo, and went back outside.

“Man, you got cooked, all right.” Ryder looked him straight in the face. “You gonna live?”

“’Course.”

“I mean about that other thing. I was damn sorry to hear what that gal did. You all right?”

Leo nodded. He felt his face getting hot. He looked out the window behind Ryder and he wanted to say something good about Allie, about how she’s not so bad and he, Leo, should have been more careful in the first place. But nothing came out of his mouth.

Ryder went into the parlor and turned up the volume on Howling Wolf.

“Don’t look in the back seat,” Jim said as he came through the doorway carrying a grocery bag. “How’s grilled steaks sound?”

“Good.” Leo put his hands in his pockets and watched his father pull the potatoes and wrapped steaks from the bag. His coveralls looked clean and new, though he’d brought some of the smell of the mill in with him.

“I read the rest of her notebooks.”

Jim turned and looked at him. In the gray light of the kitchen his hair and moustache looked black as ever. Leo could see what Katie Faye meant about his eyes. “Well?” Jim said.’

“She was funny, I mean, you know, lively.”

“Yep.”

Howling Wolf sounded good and low down in the parlor. Ryder came into the kitchen and loaded the case of beer a six-pack at a time into the fridge. Jim dumped the potatoes into the sink and started to wash them.

“You brief your son on the festivities?”

“Go ahead.”