Where was Amelia? He tried but got no answer from Mike’s studio. A glass of beer and some pretzels would hit the spot. Bob poured himself a cold glass of beer, went out onto the porch, and settled into a wicker armchair. He drank slowly, savoring each mouthful. Grace was fine. She would have told him had there been anyone snooping about trying to sell them anything or trying to fix something, and she wasn’t home today. He just couldn’t for the life of him recall her telling him where she was off to. Was she meeting Tyler in Asheville? Had she mentioned that, or was it just that Tyler had been to see her? Those two had a special relationship. He smiled. But damn, why couldn’t he remember?

The neighborhood was quiet. No cars came or went on Cove Road. No one was out walking a dog or jogging. He watched the sun sink behind Snowman’s Cap and the sky darken, and gray clouds appeared out of nowhere and tumbled across the mountain. In the distance, thunder clapped. He rubbed his arms. The temperature was falling. And then the heavens exploded; rain pelted the earth. The wind whistled past the corner of the porch. Why didn’t he recall hearing the weatherman predict a storm today? Lately he just didn’t remember things, and he used to have a sterling memory. That troubled him. There were moments, at sunset and late at night, when he thought about dying. The obituary in his former army battalion newsletter listed the names of men with whom he had served: Tom Fredricks, a bright young fellow, a lawyer, who left the service to go home to Albany, New York, and his family’s law firm. Bradley Wells, a farmer, who preferred farming in Iowa to soldiering and got out fast as he could. They were younger than he was and they had both passed away. He could see their faces. Bob closed his eyes and repeated the lines spoken after Hamlet’s death, “And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.” It was all he remembered of a play he had hated and from which he had been required to memorize long speeches when he was in high school. Then he reminded himself how lucky he was to have met Grace and fallen in love at a time when he’d given up any thought of such a thing happening. They had had several very good years together. But the very thought of not being, of not existing as flesh and blood, of not being able to touch anyone ever again or be touched, made him extremely sad. It made him want to weep for himself.