He wanted to help with the dishes, to pour a cup of coffee for her and a glass for himself. He wanted to sit alone in the warm, clean kitchen while she put Leah to bed. After that, they’d take brandy to the den and make plans for the spring inventory. Should they put in another rack of paperbacks, or add candy? Or both? “Paperbacks,” he whispered, “I vote for paperbacks, Rachel.”

His arms hung at his sides and he talked to the woman across the yard on the other side of the window in a normal tone of voice. “We left Belzec in April, Rachel. Me and Abe, Isaac and Moshe, Hirshel, Victor . . .” They left the backs of the trucks open so we had air and could smell the pines. They drove us across that compound and through the gates for the first time in four years.” Rachel emptied the leftover stew into a glass container and put the container in the refrigerator. She turned on the dishwasher and the sound of its motor came through the window into the yard.

He said, “Don’t shut me out, Rachel. From Poland to Cyprus to Palestine to here, I looked through the windows of kitchens I couldn’t go into. Through the barbed wire on Cyprus, I watched the commander’s servants cook and wash dishes. In Palestine I watched Arab women cook for their families by oil light. The night I landed here, and Isaac came to get me in Walinsky’s car, and we all cried, then laughed because Isaac was such a bad driver, all the way across the Island, past the exploding cemetery, the bread factories, the tool works, and into a section of houses covered with green shingles, I saw lit kitchen windows, and women behind them. . . .”

The coffee was done. Rachel took out a cup for her, a glass for him.

“Isaac says we’re heroes; that’s drek, but they killed my son and Isaac’s grandson. Who would be next? You, me, Leah? There were three thousand of us in Dabrowa, then thirty-­five, now eight. Eight! Add the children, there’s twenty-­one, add the grandchildren, there’s thirty-three. Thirty-­three, Rachel . . . out of three thousand. Okay, I’m corrupt, unworthy, tainted, whatever you think, but what would you have done?”

When he came back inside, Rachel saw him shiver and asked him if he was all right. He nodded wearily, went into the den, and lay down on the couch. He fell asleep and didn’t hear the phone ring. It was Hawkins. He was at the bar on Main Street and he wanted to see her.