Luke, I realized as my eyes adjusted, looked like he hadn’t shaved in a couple of days. He was wearing dark glasses, but they weren’t large enough to hide the puffiness beneath his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” I was alarmed at his appearance. “Has something happened?”

“Oh, God, Patricia Anne. You wouldn’t believe. Get in and let’s go to your house. I was on the way there when I saw you.”

This sounded bad, like something we would need time for. I looked down at Woofer who was now investigating the Lincoln’s tires.

“You go on. I’ve got the dog. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“The dog’s fine. You can put him in the backseat.”

I looked at the maroon leather upholstery. Then I looked at Woofer.

“I think I’d better meet you there.”

“All right. But hurry.”

I straightened up, the window slid closed, and the black car pulled away from the curb right in front of a young man in a pickup who managed to slam on his brakes and shoot Luke a bird at the same time. Luke seemed unaware of the near collision and continued on down the street. The young man frowned at me.

“Sorry,” I mouthed, as if I were to blame. I do this a lot, apologize for things that aren’t my fault. I think it’s because I’ve been Mary Alice’s sister for sixty-one years.

We walked home faster than Woofer liked. He wanted to savor the trees and bushes more.

“We’ll come back this afternoon,” I assured him.

Luke’s car was in our driveway and Luke was sitting on the back steps waiting. I took Woofer’s leash off and he ambled over to investigate the strange man. Luke patted Woofer’s head and began to cry. And for a second, I swear, this big man sitting on my back steps became the little boy crying because he had just thrown up all over everybody.

“Luke,” I said, sitting down beside him and putting my arm around his shoulders. “What on earth’s wrong?”

“Virginia.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a wad of wet tissue which he mopped his face with.

“What’s wrong with her? Is she sick?”

He shook his head no. “She’s left me.”

“Virginia’s left you?” I couldn’t believe that was what he’d said.

“Gone. Skedaddled. Vamoosed.” He tried to smile.

“But why? What’s happened?” Virginia and Luke had been married for more than forty years. Fred and I had just started dating when I went to their wedding.

“Another man. She just up and ran off with another man, Patricia Anne.” Luke buried his face in the wet tissue; his shoulders shook.

“Oh, surely not, Luke. Virginia wouldn’t do that.”

“Gone,” he muttered into the tissue.

Woofer lay down across our feet. I pushed him off gently and took Luke’s arm.