Jules got out of the car and stood by the door. She braced her legs and walked over to him. He pressed his arm on her shoulder, urging her into the seat between them. “Where’s your truck?” she asked. Jules didn’t answer her.

“It gave out,” Harvey said. “This is the second time the clunker’s failed. I picked him up down the road.”

Harvey seemed to be explaining too much. He’d talk himself into telling her what she didn’t need to know. Louise backed out of the question with more talk. “Turn up the heat,” she said, and she saw the men smile at each other. She rubbed her hands together and smiled at both of them, first one and then the other. She noticed the look that passed between the two men.

“A drink,” she said. “A drink is what I need.” She would be safe in a bar, able to ditch them.

They drove past the Perma Bar in the seething fog. They drove in drowsy silence all the way to Paradise. Louise sat stiffly in her seat, careful not to lean on either one of them as the car made the curves. She could feel the tires slipping at times, the quick slide to berms and back again to the road’s center.

The Angler Bar in Paradise was set up for a night of dancing. A live music sign was taped to the door. A group of four or five women was sitting at the bar in lively print dresses that were more suited to summer. They did not smile at Louise when she smiled at them. Harvey Stoner came back to the table with three clinking glasses, a special bottle of Four Roses for the lady. He poured them each a tall drink. Louise lifted the glass to her mouth and gulped the whiskey until she coughed.

“Drink up,” Harvey said. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket and lit one.

Louise drank more, hoping for a plan, an idea to get out of the bar without Harvey and Jules. The only other men present were with women themselves, women who seemed anxious to hold onto their men. The group of single women at the bar eyed Louise with flat humor. Tight-lipped women who had chased more than one man to the altar, women too eager to be with a man again, and Louise looked to have two. They plumped their lips and dabbed at the corners of their mouths. Louise was the girl at the Ursulines’ eating the last sandwich. She lifted her glass again. Jules went to play the jukebox. He played the cattle-call song and Louise felt the dull liquor in her chest.