Barbara returns with a tray bearing three cans of Coors Light and a Coke, all unopened. Rose is relieved. After Longwood, she is leery of beverages of unknown provenance.

They all pop their tops. Rose has never tasted Coors Light. Turns out there isn’t much to taste, but it is cold and wet, so she swallows it gratefully.

“So how did your husband know Chuck?” Barbara asks, sitting gracefully on the end of the couch and tucking her legs under her.

“He isn’t here,” Derek says. He has returned to his vast chair and sits on the edge as though unwilling to commit to its embrace, beer can resting on his knee.

“Yes, I know,” Rose says. “My husband has dementia. I’m considering Longwood. When we went to see about it, Pete recognized Chuck. They hadn’t kept in touch—we moved to New Orleans about thirty years ago—but he knew him on sight.”

“Did Chuck recognize him?” Derek asks.

“No,” Rose replies. “The incident was stressful for Pete. I think it scared him. Pete knows he has memory issues, but not how bad they are. I can’t keep him home much longer, so…” Rose lets the sentence drift off, looking hopefully at Barbara and her brother. Derek takes a long pull on his beer. Barbara fiddles with her necklace, running a tiny gold cross back and forth along the chain.

“It seems like a nice place,” Barbara ventures. “I mean, they’ve got hot and cold running doctors, and it costs a bundle. The people seemed real nice.”

“Has your husband been there long?” Rose asks.

“A couple of months, I guess.” Barbara wipes a swath of silky hair back from her face. “Chuckie was a lot older than me, so I kind of knew I’d be a widow for a long time.”

Rose feels a stab of alarm. “Has Mr. Boster died?”

“Oh. No. But the docs don’t think he’s got much time. There’s kinds of dementia that go on for years, and kinds that are quick. Chuck’s got the quick kind.”

Might not last out the week. The words trickle in through a hospital room door in Rose’s mind.

“A blessing, I guess,” Barbara is saying. “I mean, who wants to live babbling and drooling? Chuck got pretty lost there at the end. Couldn’t even find his way to the bathroom. I’d find him outside or standing in front of the door not knowing where he was.” Her face softens in lines of sadness. “Poor old guy. I wish I could go see him.”

“Seeing you upsets him,” Derek says firmly. Barb sighs.

“How did you find out about Longwood?” Rose asks.

Barbara bites her lower lip, her teeth making drag marks in the lipstick.

“Didn’t you get a brochure, an ad in the mail?” Derek nudges his sister’s memory.