“I almost think I’ve seen him sleeping here,” Eddie said, half to himself.
“You probably did,” she said. “Dear, dear Morris. You know, sometimes I imagine how it would be if he came back. He’d walk in the door looking all shy and sheepish, not wanting me to make a fuss, and I would say, ‘Oh, sweetheart, I have so much to tell you!’ That’s what I feel saddest about: everything he’s missed, just in the little time he’s been gone. ‘Robby’s got his own byline now; can you believe it?’ I’d say. ‘Serena named her baby Peter Morris Hayes. And Joan and Mel across the street are getting a divorce—the last couple you’d expect it of.’？”
“Maybe he already knows,” Eddie said. He didn’t actually think that, but it seemed to be something people said to the bereaved.
But Lily was having none of it. “I certainly hope he does not know,” she said, “because can you think of any worse hell than to look down from heaven and see your loved ones suffering without you?”
“You’ve got a point,” Eddie said.
“So you’ll take the recliner?” she asked.
“Well…” He stood up and looked down at it, considering. “I’m not sure how I’d transport it, though.”
“I can do that! I can put it in my hatchback and follow you home.” And then, perhaps believing she had worn down his defenses by now, “You should take the albums, too.”
“What albums?”
“The family photo albums.”
“Oh. No, thanks. I’m not much of a one for memorabilia,” Eddie said.
“Darn. I know my kids don’t want them; I’ve already asked.”
“One of my sisters, maybe?”
“I can try,” Lily said, sounding doubtful. “If not, I could send them to David.”
“David!”
“Just to remind him he does have a family,” she said with a wry chuckle. “Yes, I think that’s what I’ll do: wrap them up and mail them to David. He can dispose of them as he likes. Probably will dispose of them, straight into the wastebasket. Oh, what does that man have against us?”
Eddie shrugged. He had heard the subject rehashed too often to find it interesting.
“Just watch,” she told him. “It’ll turn out to be something tiny, like ‘I always got the smallest piece of cake.’ Or ‘You made me mow the lawn every week and my sisters never had to.’ I mean, nothing big. Nothing like…he was molested, or locked in the basement or something.”
“Oh, well,” Eddie said. “Maybe he just doesn’t like us; ever thought of that?”
“Not like us!” She looked thunderstruck.
“So, were you serious about your hatchback?” he asked. “Not to put you to any trouble, but—”
“Absolutely,” Lily said, and then she wiped her palms on the seat of her jeans in a businesslike way and stepped forward to seize one end of the recliner.
“Oh, I didn’t mean right this minute,” Eddie told her.
“What better time?” she asked. “I’m only going to get busier from here on out.”
So he gave up and bent to lift the other end.
* * *
—
He knew he shouldn’t text while driving. He contemplated pulling over to the side of the road for a moment—“Bringing aunt home want to warn you” was all he would need to say—but then Lily might get to the house before he did. So he kept going. If Claude saw them coming, he figured, or heard them （if Eddie spoke extra loudly as they entered）， he would know enough to duck out of sight; no problem.
But would he duck out of sight?
Sometimes Eddie wondered if Claude fully understood Eddie’s situation. It was easy for Claude, after all. He had parents who’d always accepted him just the way he was. Well, and he had known who he was; that was another difference. Eddie, on the other hand…Eddie had been sort of clueless, up until eighth grade. Eighth grade was when he developed a crush on Karen Small, the most popular girl in his class. （And therefore unattainable, he saw now. No danger of her reciprocating.） But Karen was going steady with Jem Buford, and so Eddie had closely studied Jem Buford in order to learn what was so great about him. He took note of Jem’s lopsided smile, and the single quirky cowlick standing up on the crown of his head, and his habit of keeping a fountain pen cartridge jutting from between his teeth like an unlit cigarette. And finally…Wait, Eddie had thought, is it Jem I have a crush on?