Jim dumped the last of his coffee and ice into the river. “Texas isn’t as pretty as Kentucky, son, but something about those Mexicans and their food got to me so I stayed. I starved for three weeks, then I enlisted.” He took a deep drag off his cigarette, his eyes squinting in the smoke. “My dad was dead only two years, but I couldn’t breathe in that damn house.” He looked at Leo, then away just as fast. “You look more like Katie Faye than you ever have, but you’re just like me, son. You’re just like me.”

Jim cooked kielbasa sausages on the grill, and Leo sat on the kitchen stoop with one of his C harps. He was working on the intro to “Messin’ with the Kid,” which was such a clean shot into the number, he didn’t think he could do it without a band backup but he was getting close to sucking out the skeleton. He kept his eyes on Jim while he played, on his thick forearm and big hand that held the barbecue fork. He couldn’t picture his father so young and hungry in Texas; three weeks without real food. He closed his eyes and tongue-blocked four different notes in a row, but it was the wrong combination, and when he opened his eyes, Ryder’s Impala was driving down under the trees. He had a woman with him. Leo could see her pretty well through the windshield as Ryder parked behind the Valiant and waved. She had fluffy auburn hair kept high on top with a wide red headband. She got out and smiled at Leo over the roof of the car, her teeth big and straight and white. She was wearing too much rouge, and the blue-green smudges above her eyes didn’t quite match her hair.

“Young Buddy, this is Helena. Her brother made your bandolero.”

“Hello, Leo. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Leo stood and waved.

“Hi, Jimmy.” Helena smiled even more. She tilted her head and waved her hand real stiff, like a beauty queen in a convertible parade. She was wearing a light purple blouse with puffy sleeves, dark blue pants, and white sandals with heels, her toenails painted red to match her headband. Her earrings dangled almost to her shoulders, gold balls hanging off tiny gold chains. With her big hair and big teeth, Leo expected her to have big breasts, but she didn’t; they were as compact as Allie’s mother’s.

Ryder walked up to the stoop with a case of Pabst cans and a quart of potato salad from B&G Grocery. “Come give your Uncle Ryder a hand with these.”

As soon as the screen door closed behind them, Ryder put the case on the table, walked over, and gave Leo a short hug. He smelled like women’s perfume. He stepped back and looked into Leo’s face. “You’re scarin’ hell out of your old man and me, but we’re damn proud of you.” He squeezed Leo’s shoulders, then turned and opened the fridge. Leo handed him two cans at a time.