The room is as bright and clean as it was a few days ago, and atop the tiny table by the door, the printouts about emotional distress are still folded in quarters, unread. There’s coffee in the pot, socks at the end of the bed, and there’s a trace of something putrid that grows stronger as I move down the hall toward the bathroom, stronger still when I open the door.

Half a dozen glass cubes filled with soggy stems are lined up along the backsplash, just below the mirror, their milky, moldy water smelling of shit. I grab one and leave the rest for him to manage, and when I tell Elizabeth how gross Nick is, she makes a sour face and goes back to her book. Without looking at me, she says, “It’s supposed to storm later.”

“Is that right?” I dump the rotten bouquet, pour the funky water down our drain. Nick might have walked straight to the bus station after our talk. Maybe he’s at Mayo already, getting a valid opinion, putting an end to my fun.

Elizabeth holds a hand to her face. “Oh God, that does smell awful. Would you lower the umbrella before it starts?”

I squeeze organic dish soap into the glass cube, flushing it with hot water and suds scented with peppermint and eucalyptus. Nick left his computer here, but kids travel light these days. Ultralight. “The umbrella,” I say. “Yeah, sure.”

Upstairs, Jonah’s bedroom door opens and closes. He comes clunking down with his keys in his hands, and when I ask about Nick’s whereabouts, he blows me off, and when I ask where he’s going, Jonah blows me off again.

Elizabeth says to him, “Please tell us so we don’t worry.”

“For a drive,” he answers, and she nods, and they leave me out of it, then Jonah’s gone.

I fill the clean glass cube with cool water and add Vanessa’s flowers, then place the arrangement in the center of our dining room table, where we ought to eat more often, setting places with placemats and cloth napkins. I don’t even realize that I’m staring through the sliding glass door, out to the backyard, until Elizabeth says, “He’ll turn up.”

19.

It rains all night and well into the morning. Forecast says showers all week.