Bill excused himself, grateful to get away from Izzy’s questions. Tom and Sal, well into their second six-pack, had reached the stage of goofy intoxication where everything seemed funny. They laughed and jostled each other while the steaks and chicken burned. Mrs. Trejo came up at the same time Bill reached the grill. She grabbed the spatula from Tom.

“Payasos!” she exclaimed. “You’re burning the meat.” She gave the spatula to Bill. “You take over. You two,” she said to her sons, “get away from here before you set yourselves on fire.”

“Aw, Ma,” Sal said, “lighten up. We’re just having fun.”

Bill removed the cooked meat and put it on a brightly decorated platter while Mrs. Trejo lay corn on the grill. Nick had finished swinging the kids, and seeing Bill, smiled at him. It was his old smile, the big grin that reached into his eyes and it broke Bill’s heart now because it had been such a long time since he had seen this smile. He waved at Nick with his free hand. Nick’s niece tugged his shirt and led him away to another kid’s game.

He’s happy here, Bill thought. Not like when he’s with me.

He remembered their conversation after another fight when Bill had again asked, Are you leaving me? To which Nick had replied, Where would I go? Home to my mom? When I told her we fight, she said, you made your bed, now lie in it. As far as she’s concerned, we’re married and married people don’t get divorced. They stick it out.

“As soon as the corn is done, we’ll eat,” Mrs. Trejo said, taking the platter of meat to the table.

Nudging Bill as he put the last of the burgers on the grill, Tom said, “Guess Ma has a new favorite brother-in-law.”

“Hey,” Sal said, “you wanna beer, Billy?”

“No, I’m good.”

“Beautiful day, huh?” Tom said. “Good to see you and Nicky.”

“Yeah,” Sal said. “Been awhile.”

“We oughta go to a game,” Tom said. “Giants playing the Dodgers next weekend. I can get some good seats.”

“That would be great,” Bill said, “but you know how baseball bores Nick.”

“Leave him at home,” Sal said.

Bill nodded ambiguously.

“Speaking of the game, man,” Tom said. “It’s about to start. Come on, Sal, we can get in a few minutes before we have to eat. You hold down the fort here, okay Bill? And if Ma asks don’t tell her we’re watching TV.”

“Will do,” Bill said, his eyes seeking Nick who was now engaged in a fierce game of kick the can.

As soon as Nick was in the car, Bill clicked the lock on his door.

“I can lock my own door,” Nick said, petulantly.

“You never remember to.”