Rudy opened another beer. “You know what’s a fucking crime is private property,” he said to no one in particular.

“That’s what I’m always saying,” Helen said.

“Private property is what this country was founded on,” Frank said.

“Fuck what this country was founded on,” Helen said.

“I’ll drink to that,” Rudy said, and did.

Mike said, “Now, hold on. If they try to come on my land, I’ve got my Smith and Wesson.”

“You’re right about that,” I said. Perley turned his head to the side, and fit his mouth around my collarbone, trying to suckle. “If they try to mess with Perley or Lily—”

“Wait a minute. Who is They?” Lily asked.

“I don’t care who it is, I’ll do whatever it takes,” I said.

“But who is it that you’re so worried about?” Lily asked.

“Do you really have to ask?” I said.

“Let’s all drink to that,” said Rudy, and we all did.

Lily knew as well as I did who They were. Sardined there with our neighbors, I didn’t choose to say, According to the state, I’m not here. According to the state, I’m gone, I’m nothing. Lily is Perley’s only official parent. Neither Lily nor I liked to say it out loud, not even between the two of us. We didn’t want to make it more true. And if sometimes I felt myself hovering near invisibility, if fear made me fragile or turned me tyrant, if fear made me want to flee, well so what? I wasn’t going anywhere, not anytime soon. I was bound and determined to parent Perley within an inch of both our lives.