“When I started, things were more tame,” Shane said. “But now it’s big-time. I don’t even want to tell you what I’ve seen.”

“I’m pretty good at taking care of myself,” I said. We drove past mini-marts and motels, camper parks and more cornfields, diners and lots where large yellow pieces of equipment waited side by side. I counted the number of women that I saw, but hadn’t even got through the fingers of one hand before Shane looked at me quickly, then cut his eyes back to the road.

“How’s Helen?” he asked. There was no way I could match his bald chattiness. I was already tired. So I doubled down on my Greyhound setting. It had served me well this far. Why not leave it to Shane to do the sharing?

“Fine, I think,” I said.

“I looked her up a few years ago when I was out in Seattle,” he said. “Thought I’d buy her a beer, you know, for old times’ sake. But her aunt told me she’s still living on that damn twenty acres we bought.” He shook his head. I didn’t say, I’m living on that damn twenty acres, too. I didn’t say anything.

“I can’t imagine what she’s doing for work,” Shane said. He waited.

“She’s working for Rudy,” I said.

“Rudy?” Shane said. “You’ve got to be kidding me. That guy is such a phenomenal fuckup.”

“Well,” I said. “Some people stay. Some people go.”

He glanced at me. “Is she with him?” he asked.

“None of my business,” I said, but for some reason I didn’t deny it outright.

“That woman,” he said, “she never stopped talking, and now I have all the time in the world to think about the things she told me.” He looked over at me again as he said that, maybe thinking he’d get sensitivity points. I kept my face quiet. “It’s good to see you, Karen,” he said. “I’ve missed you.”

I figured he and I must have different working definitions of what it meant to miss someone. The man hardly knew me. Helen had been all torn up about him when we first met her, but if you asked me he was one of those guys who strove so hard to make a good impression that it made you want to deny him the satisfaction.

“You in trouble, then, or what?” he asked.

“I’m not in trouble,” I said.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he said. “But it seems like if you weren’t in trouble you’d stick to nursing. Good high-wage job. Not many of those down where you’re from.”