“Go on,” he said, “count. I want to see what we have.” He said it like the money had always been theirs. Louise had never seen so much money in a billfold. He kept his money like a neat cash drawer, ones, then fives, three twenties, and four fifties, all facing the same direction, heads up.

“How much?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Louise said. She was surprised when she found herself thinking he was going to just give her the money and more surprised when she found herself hoping he would. She was embarrassed to be looking into his wallet. He could see her want.

“Well?” he said.

“I’d say around three hundred,” Louise said, and gave him back his wallet. Before she could stop him he grabbed her hand and was kissing her fingers with the brief wet press of his tongue. She felt the heaviness of his car. The smooth rolling wheels beneath her seat.

“Let’s say you and I go to Wallace tonight,” he said to her.

“I’m married,” she said, thinking more of his marriage than Baptiste.

He turned on the radio and the music sounded clear. He sang to a song she did not recognize but his voice was deep, almost caramel, lush in his throat. He sang to her and she felt the shade of her blood. He pulled off his ring and pretended to swallow it.

“Gone,” he said.

“Don’t break your teeth on it,” she said, but she liked the way he teased her.

He leaned toward her a little. “Give me your hand here.”

She pulled her hands tight to her lap but he clasped her left hand. She waited for him to take his wedding ring out of his mouth, to tease her again. But he lifted her hand to his mouth. She felt his tongue between her fingers, the gentle nudge of his teeth as he slipped the heavy ring on her middle finger. She wanted to close her eyes but did not.

“Hand me a cigarette from there, will you, honey?” He tapped the glove box. She liked his slow voice, his smartness, the way his shoes were so polished they looked tight on his feet.

“Don’t want me to roll one?” she said, and then she hid her eyes from him for a moment. Louise watched brilliant strikes split the sky. Sky curled back purple, gray. Rare lightning in October. She’d only been to Wallace once before. She had liked the steep mountainsides, the whistling miners. She looked down into her lap at the ring on her finger, and let Harvey Stoner have his way.