Phillip stared at the elegant sports car—lit up by his headlights—that had snagged his preferred parking spot directly in front of Vicki’s town house. Generally, on Sunday evenings that space was free. During the day was iffy, because of the graveyard up the block, but Sunday evenings no one parked there. There had been a spot farther back, but he had been hoping. In the old days, he would have shrugged and backed up illegally. Never mind it was a narrow one-way street. He’d found cars would honk, but they’d get out of the way if he moved aggressively enough. Show no mercy. Show no fear. Hit the gas and go. However, the last time he tried that maneuver had been at least a decade ago. Torqueing his body to get a good view out the rear window had caused him to slip a disc, one of his lumbar vertebrae. It had been quite painful. He’d had to call Vicki from his car phone. She’d raced outside to help him out of his car. Somehow they managed to maneuver him up the stairs to her front door. It had been painted a robin’s-egg blue back then. He’d had one of his arms around Vicki’s shoulders, his other hand gripping the black wrought iron banister. Every movement caused debilitating, hot-dagger-like pain to shoot through him. By the time they got him inside to his armchair, he was sweating profusely. On the upside, Vicki had fussed around him like a mother hen. She had stuffed a bag of frozen peas down the back of his pants, then rustled up a martini for him, a dish of warmed mixed nuts, a muscle relaxant, and a glass of water to wash it down. Returning home that night had been impossible, the next night, too. He’d spent three full days and nights of painful bliss with Vicki in their love nest before he was capable of making the drive home. Memories, Phillip mused, making a right-hand turn onto McDonald Avenue. An SUV swerved, horn blasting. “Get off the fucking road, Grandpa!” By the time Phillip had his window open and his middle finger hoisted, the SUV was well down the road. With all the drama, Phillip had missed his turn, so he drove another block and then turned right, made another right and another. Luckily, no one had pulled into the parking spot he’d spied down the block from Vicki’s house, and he claimed it for his own.