“I thought I’d take Buddy for a walk to my mother’s before I start dinner.” After her shift in the library, it took Alice longer in the grocery store than she’d planned and all the time she was waiting in line behind some dimwit who didn’t believe in the grammatically suspect 12 ITEMS OR LESS sign, she worried that Ed would have already taken Buddy out for his late-afternoon walk. She’s never said how much she looks forward to it, as much for the casual saunter down the winding road to the conservation land, the scent of the forest and the quiet solitude after a busy day as for the obvious enjoyment the dog gets from the walk. She wants to be the one to give the dog this pleasure.

“He’d like that. We’ve mostly just done errands. He pooped in the backyard.” Ed unbuckles his belt and lets his filthy pants drop to the kitchen floor. “Not much excitement for him today.” He steps out of the pants, his heel catching the cuff, so that one leg is pulled inside out. He stands there with the tail of his denim shirt keeping him decent, long legs pale against the dark of the shirt. “Unless you count the pooping.”

Alice takes the dirty pants from Ed’s hands, rights the inverted leg. Despite the many years pounding the factory floors, his legs still look pretty good. Ed hasn’t run to fat the way most men of his age have, but then she’s a good cook, not a fancy one. Never got into lavish sauces or fancy desserts. Good nutrition, just like she was taught in home ec. Basic food groups, plus a treat now and then. Alice sniffs when she hears about the public outcry about obesity. Not in her family.

“I thought about taking him for a walk, but I knew that you’d want to do it when you got home.”

Alice is surprised by that, by Ed’s getting it.

Buddy flops down on the floor, his thumping tail the only thing to suggest he’s not resting, but hopeful of some activity. Ed nudges him with his toe. “Hey Buddy, don’t lose heart. Alice will give you what you want.”

The dog jumps to his feet, yips a little.

“Guess I’ll just go take a shower.”

It’s his using the word just that pricks Alice’s conscience, making him sound something like a boy who’s been left out of the game. Ed’s had the dog all day, so why should he feel deprived? Alice wants her solitude, and this walk has become the only way she gets it now that Ed’s been laid off. She wishes he wasn’t so stubborn about finding another job, one that would at least get him out of the house with more purpose than coffee at Lil’s. He is too present.