40

Jim was in his bedroom changing clothes, the door open, when Leo walked into his own room and dropped the harp bandolero on the bed. He switched on the lamp on the night table and took off his tie. His room seemed small for some reason. Big Bill Broonzy too. He heard crickets outside the window.

“Your old boss just called.” Jim stood in the doorway tucking his T-shirt into baggy work pants. He still had on his black dress socks though, and at first Leo thought he meant Tom Burrell, then he saw his father’s face.

“He doesn’t know what happened between you and Allison, does he?”

Leo shook his head. “What’d he want?”

“Invited us up for watermelon.” Jim walked in. “It’s okay by me if you want to go up there.”

Leo sat down at the edge of the bed. Jim was looking at the window though Leo knew he couldn’t see anything but dark glass. On the bureau a few inches from Jim’s head was Katie Faye’s box. Above that was Big Bill Broonzy’s face.

“You sounded good tonight, Pop.”

“You too.”

“I screwed up a couple of times.”

“But you caught yourself; that’s what pros do.” Jim was looking at the wall above Leo’s pillow. Leo took off his too-tight shoes.

“What are you going to pack?”

Leo wasn’t thinking about tomorrow; he was thinking of what to wear up to the Donovans’ right now, and he wasn’t sure if his father had just said he was going up there too, or not.

“You won’t need more than one change of clothes.” Jim took a pair of underwear and socks from the bureau, then he pulled out Leo’s best pair of jeans. They were broken in at the hips and knees and the hems went all the way down Leo’s ankles, even with his work boots on. “I’ll pack the ones underneath those.” Leo took the pants from his father, then went into the bathroom, undressed, and took a shower. He turned the water as hot as he could stand it, then cold. He towel-dried his hair and combed it straight back to dry that way. He hadn’t heard them pull up but he could hear Helena laughing out in the kitchen, Ryder too.

In his room, on the floor beneath the window, was a white Heywood Paper Products bag, neatly folded and creased. Next to it was his father’s worn black leather shaving kit. Leo tried on three button-down shirts from the closet and finally decided to wear a green- and white-striped short-sleeved one. He tied on his work boots, combed his wet hair once more, and walked out into the kitchen.