Chapter 43

Three other teachers, Ben’s principal, and Jaroslav, the school’s slightly awkward custodian who seems to only speak Polish, are toasting the birthday boy when I arrive, and his sister Clémence breezes onto the patio ninety seconds behind me. There’s beer, there’s presents, there’s Jaroslav performing an elaborate card trick that results in the heavily-inked waitress, amidst much oohing and aahing, setting the four of clubs as the coaster under Ben’s third beer, and then we go home.

“My mouth has been watering for your meatloaf all day,” he says as we’re mounting the five steps to the front porch.

“Not the worst euphemism I’ve ever heard,” I say. “Not the best.”

He laughs as we swing through the door. The air is thick with the tantalizing aroma of…not much. If I really sniff, I can smell a hint of my gym shorts from the bedroom, but in terms of onions and sweet roasted meat and birthday deliciousness: nada.