She sighed. “Okay. You asked me a reasonable question, I’ll answer you honestly. I brought my gun with me because I wanted you to know that I own it.”

“You told me you sold it.”

“I was going to sell it—”

“You lied to me.”

“You were harping, Peter,” Rina said. “I just wanted to—” She stopped in midsentence.

Decker said, “You wanted to shut me up, so you lied to me. Nothing like honesty in a marriage.”

“Well, I’m admitting it now,” Rina said. “And I’ve felt very guilty about it. I’m sorry. Will you forgive me?”

“If you sell the gun.”

“Peter, it should be my decision, not yours.”

“You’re my wife! According to Jewish law, I bought you.”

Rina glared at him. “I hate when you use religion to prove a point.”

Decker said, “This conversation is pointless.”

“So drop it!”

They rode in angry silence for the next few moments. Decker broke it.

“After two years, I finally see that no matter what I say…what I do…you’re going to carry that stupid gun.”

“You’re right.”

Decker drummed his fingers on the wheel. “I hope to God you know what you’re doing.”

“Peter, you have no trust in my judgment. A marriage should be based on mutual trust.”

“Now who’s sounding preachy?”

“What do I have to do to earn your trust?” Rina said. “Outshoot you?”

Decker broke into laughter.

“Yeah, laugh,” Rina said. “Want to know what I think? I think you’re threatened.”

“And I think you’re a bit overwrought,” Decker answered.

Rina crossed her arms over her chest, again too steamed up to answer. It was his tone of voice. So condescending.

Decker said, “You don’t want to talk, I’ll shut up.”

Rina thought that was a very good idea. They drove awhile without speaking. But when they hit Eastern Parkway, Rina took his hand. She hated it when they fought. Life was too short. He looked over her way and broke into a smile. He thought he was angry, but he took one gander at those eyes and he melted. He adored her, couldn’t stay angry at her. And hey, what the hell was wrong with that?

Crown Heights was another small island of ultra-Orthodox. Today not being a holiday, it was business as usual. Metal accordion grates had been pushed to one side, the doors were wide open. A few proprietors were hosing down the sidewalks at the entrances of their shops. An elderly lady wearing a bandana was on a ladder checking out a gash sliced into the store’s front awning.