Thursday’s town newspaper is still on the stand and Ed goes to get one while Alice takes another cup of decaf from Lil. Pushing the empty plates aside, Ed stretches the paper out in front of them and they check through the car ads side by side. The end-of-season clearances are going on, so each of the dealers is touting big savings and decent monthly payments. Maybe even on Ed’s fixed income they can afford to do this. They’ve put some away; money that was meant for college is still sitting there. It seemed wrong to use it for anything else. Taking it would have been tantamount to stealing it from Stacy in the early days following what happened. But now, with Ed out of work, it sits there like a backup plan.

In this little hometown paper the lost-and-found ads are the first classifieds after the paid ads. Lost earrings and cats, found wallets and boots. Alice doesn’t want to look, but she finds herself drawn to the column. First ad under the column heading: “Found, small collielike dog. Gray and black, one blue eye, one brown. Near Old Path Road. Call…”

It feels like a century ago that she called in that advertisement. Now the object of those few words is a member of the family. She narrows her eyes, hoping that no one will see it. She wishes that it wasn’t the first ad, but was lost among all the other ads for missing sweaters with sentimental attachments and bracelets worthy of rewards. Alice breathes out. If anyone was going to call, they would have by now.

Alice starts to fold up the paper, but Ed pushes it back to the table surface. “We need to look.”

She knows what he means, and the old familiar animosity rises. “No, we don’t.”

Ed ignores her and runs his finger down the lost ads. Alice doesn’t watch. She looks out at the car, where Buddy is waiting so patiently for them. He is out of sight, curled up, no doubt, on the middle seat.

“Nothing. No one around here is missing him. We don’t have to look ever again, but we had to look now. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t.”

“I could.”

“But now we don’t have to worry about it. Free and clear. We’ve done what we could.”

Ed wraps his arm around her shoulder and Alice lets herself sink in next to him, tucked safely under his arm. “He’s our boy now.”

*   *   *