Xie yelps. Death grip on the steering wheel, blisters screaming beneath the gauze. He keeps one foot on the brake the whole time. Almost there. Half a rabbit on the yellow line, bright blood on white fur. Don’t look. Finally his driveway and he puts the car in park, askew, keys out, deep breath. Goes to her door. She reaches one leg out for the ground as if unsure where exactly it is. Heavy lurch onto her feet. His arm around her waist, stiff jacket beneath his hand. Brushing her hair out of his own face. Stumble over the doorstep. Shuffle to the couch. Here, he says. Karen half sits, half rests her head on the arm. Eyes closed. Dry swallow. He gets her a glass of water, a blanket, helps her drink, takes off her shoes. Why did she get so fucked up at ten in the morning. Trying to remember, did I ever smell alcohol on her before? But sure this is the first time. And her driving like this. Or did she start drinking in the parking lot or. Fuck’s sake, Karen. She’s not asleep but trying to be still. Lets her be. Boils water in the kitchen. Makes tea. Quiet. Strong sun through the window, bright square on her hip. Watching her. Such silence. He sits at the table, Nova’s book open, eyes restless on the page and eventually she falls asleep and when she awakes she seems. Better. Blinking, quick turn of her head, Xie—? He gets up from the table. Yeah. She sits, folding the blanket over the back of the couch, clumsy, as if she can’t quite feel her hands. How did I get here? Um. I drove. You drove? Yeah, you were in your car, so. I, um. Drove it. Here. She turns her head from the light and he pulls the curtain across the window. May I use your bathroom. Voice flat, quiet. He shows her and she shuts the door. Running water. He makes toast. After ten minutes she comes out, face scrubbed, her hair in a ponytail. Sits at the table, where he has put her toast, a jar of jam, tea. She eats. Tiny bites of bread. Squints into the tea, steam crawling up her cheeks. Xie scratching his neck. Do you want to see the garden? Karen looks up, blank. Then nods. Knuckles white around the mug. Okay. He leads her to the yard. Stepping down into the dirt. Her hand shading her eyes. Walking around the boxes. Fingering the kale. If there’s anything you want I can. Put it in a bag for you, he says. Breath steaming. Her brow furrowed, brushing the tops of the beets. I could take some of these, she says. Xie pulls them up. Brisk rub of dirt from the skins. What happened to your hand? she says. He winces. Nothing. Karen going over the garden as if judging a science fair project, little frown. You’ve done so much. He shrugs.