At 6:30 he gave up, tired of juggling the growing expenses against the reduced income. His head hurt. He wanted dinner and some beer. 3
Inside his trailer, he smoothed Molly’s drawing on top of the others on his refrigerator, fingering it softly for a moment. It stood out from the pizza coupons and take-out menus. He grabbed two Stouffer’s frozen dinners from the freezer and nuked them. He looked around the shabby rooms.
I should straighten up some before Roscoe gets here.
His trailer was furnished with cast-offs. A scruffy sofa, his father’s old recliner, and a television dominated the small living room. The orange shag carpeting was left over from the seventies. The kitchen floor was worn from too many scrubbings when he and Juliana had kept cubs barricaded there; the cabinets were both chewed and clawed.