Side door squeak every time. Don’t never notice it in daytime. Squeak like hell at night. Porch light on. He always leave it on if she going to be out. Ain’t no need to turn it off. She be back in ten minutes. He never know she gone. Car in the driveway. It raining. A little.

Ain’t cold. Don’t need no coat.

She get in, ease the door to. Trying to be quiet. He so tired, he need his rest. She look at the bedroom window when she turn the key. And the light come on in there.

Caught now. Wasn’t even asleep. Trying to just catch her on purpose. Laying in there in the dark just making out like he asleep. Don’t trust her. Won’t never trust her. It like he making her slip around. Damn him anyway.

Ain’t nothing to do but talk to him. He standing on the step in his underwear. She put it in reverse and back on up. She stop beside him and roll down the window. She hate to. Neighbors gonna see him out here in his underwear. What he think he doing anyway, can’t leave her alone. Treat her like some baby he can’t take his eye off of for five minutes.

“I just goin to the store,” she say. “I be right back.”

“Don’t care for you goin to the store,” he say. “Long as you come back. You comin back?”

He got his arms wrapped around him, he shivering in the night air. He look like he been asleep.

“I just goin after some cigarettes,” she say. “I be back in ten minutes. Go on back to bed. I be right back. I promise.”

He step off the porch and come next the car. He hugging himself and shaking, barefooted. Standing in the driveway getting wet.

“I won’t say nothin about you drinkin if you just do it at home,” he say. “Go git you somethin to drink. But come back home,” he say. “Please,” he say.

It hit her now, this enough. This enough to stop anything, anybody, everything. He done give up.

“Baby,” he say, “know you ain’t gone stop. Done said all I can say. Just don’t get out on the road drinkin. Don’t care about the car. Just don’t hurt yourself.”

“I done told you I be back in ten minutes,” she say. “I be back in ten minutes.”

Something cross his face. Can’t tell rain from tears in this. But what he shivering from she don’t think is cold.

“Okay, baby,” he say, “okay,” and he turn away. She relieved. Now maybe won’t be no argument. Now maybe won’t be no dread. She telling the truth anyway. Ain’t going nowhere but Big Star. Be back in ten minutes. All this fussing for nothing. Neighbors probably looking out the windows.