“Come on, Tyler,” she said. “You want the bird to get to heaven, don’t you?” She couldn’t believe she was coaxing him like this, but the thought of saying a prayer herself, putting the words ‘please’ and ‘God’ together made the blood rush to her head, and she wished Devesh was here, his hands firmly on her waist, keeping her steady and in place.

“Yes,” he said, and began turning the measuring tape.

She watched him turn it, watched it glint in his hands. He turned it once, twice, three times. He was making her nervous. All of this was making her nervous, and she had a sudden desire either to shake Tyler or be shaken herself.

“Come on, Tyler. Say it.”

He turned the tape measure. Eight, nine, ten times, and with each turn Josie felt the blood pulse in her head. Finally on the twelfth turn, he started. “God is great,” he said. “God is good.” He turned the tape rhythmically with the words. “Let us thank him for this food.”

“That’s it,” she said quickly. “We’re done. Let’s go inside.” Her heart was still beating rapidly, and she couldn’t understand how something as innocuous as a bird funeral could make her feel so … so … provoked. She cringed at what she had instinctively felt—the desire to shake him, to rid herself of the thought that something, someone, was looking down on them.

“Go inside, Tyler,” she said. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

He walked across the grass, onto the patio, and then stopped.

“What?” she said.

“Now,” he said. He looked up and past her, and she knew she should remind him to look at her. People know you’re talking to them when you look at them, she should say, but she didn’t want him looking at her. He stared past the tree, over the fence, and far, far away.

“Now the bird is in heaven,” he said. He nodded his head, and Josie felt the motion in the pit of her stomach. No, she wanted to say. He’s not. It’s just for us. The funeral is just for us. But the trickle of uncertainty had begun to bleed into her, and instead she focused on the fence and began to count the posts.

*   *   *

That evening, when Josie arrived at Devesh’s house, he was waiting on the porch.

“Turn around,” he said. “Get in the car.”

“Where are we going?”

He smiled mischievously. “It’s a surprise.”

She raised her eyebrows.

“Come on. We’re going to be late.” He got into the car, and she slid into the passenger’s seat.

“Tell me,” she pleaded.

“Nope,” he said and switched on the radio. It was a country music station, and she groaned.