'Oh, Macon. You should have asked her in.' l was scared she'd say no,' he said. There was a silence. "Well. Anyhow," Rose said finally"But I'm getting along fine!' "Yes, of course you are," she told him. Then she said she had something cooking and hung up Macon didn't eat real meals anymore. When he was hungry, he drank a glass of milk, or ate some ice cream from the fridge, Then he began to notice that his shirt collars felt round his neck and the lines on his face seemed deeper. So every morning he cooked two eggs and made fresh, hot coffee. oh, he was managing fine, just fine. All things considered But his nights were terrible. They began all right. He would get into bed, and move the t over. The dog, Edward, was small with very short legs, and had to be helped onto the bed. Edward then lay at his feet, while the cat lay next to his back. Macon would sleep for a hour or two and then wake up. Little worries ran round and round his mind. Had he left the back door unlocked? Forgotten to put the milk away? Paid the gas bill? The worries changed, grew deeper. He wondered what had gone wrong with his marriage. They were such different people Sarah changeable and disorganized, he systematic and in his routines. And when Ethan he brought more of their differences. Pictures from Ethan's life floated past Macon's eyes like a film on the ceiling. At twelve he'd been a tall, fair-haired boy with an open, friendly face, and a lovable habit of jumping up and down when he was nervous. Don't think about it He was murdered in a burger bar his second night at summer