I looked down at my phone and saw I had missed six.

“They’re not coming through for some reason.”

“I don’t know why that keeps happening. You need to get your phone checked.”

“I should.”

“What time are you leaving work?”

“I have to stay late. A few more hours at least,” I said.

“Maybe pick up something for us to eat before you do?”

“Like what—”

“Just get whatever.”

He hung up before I could say anything else. I looked in the rearview. No one was behind me, so I slowed to pull a U-turn and reluctantly headed back to Los Angeles.

2.

I stopped at the grocery store in our neighborhood before I got home, charging the credit card we shared to conserve the money I had in my own account. I didn’t want to tell Bobby that I was no longer employed, because I didn’t want the questions—did I get laid off, did I get fired, was I being impulsive again. Instead, I kept quiet and found places to go during work hours. My former employer was nice enough to give me six weeks of severance, even though I was pretty sure I didn’t deserve it. He liked me. I liked him. It was a no-fault situation. That’s what I told myself, anyway. I sent a thank-you note, because I was nothing if not thoughtful and I wanted him to think I was a good person. I was squirreling away as much severance as I could into my meager savings account—for the future.

When I got home, Bobby wasn’t in our apartment, but I assumed he’d be back soon, so I got to cooking. I made an entire meal and ate it, and he still did not come home. I went to sit on our patio to have a drink, and then another—not to wait for him exactly, and not to get drunk exactly.

Sitting on the patio, taking frequent sips from my glass, I noticed a small bird body quivering in the dusk light. I put my glass down and leaned over to get a closer look. His feet were curled around the rim of my hummingbird feeder, and his small, feathered body convulsed, eyes closed, tongue lurching in and out of his beak.

I hadn’t expected to spend my evening watching a hummingbird die. But I didn’t know he was dying just then. I thought he might have been sleeping, or, foolishly, I thought he was just resting.

There’s a woman to call when you find a hummingbird in distress. I dialed her number while staring at the bird as he swayed forward and back. When I explained the symptoms, and the sway, she told me the bird was dying. She said it was experiencing an excruciating death. She said I could help it along to ease its suffering.