Chapter 49

Archibald Vincent Wilkes never lacked for any material possessions.

“Archibald?” I wasn’t quite able to squelch the stink face when Dawn told me the name Faye had come up with for the newborn boy. Swinging between immaturity and manhood, like a swing—It was another early morning, my simile conjuring powers were lacking—even I wanted to take an immediate jab at Archibaldrrsquo;s lack of hair.

 “Archie, I assume,” Dawn said. “I wonder if Annie and Vincent had chosen something different.”

We’d never know.

* * * *

Now, as I stood from my chair the moment Archie rolled over and away from me, as I recalled the huge mess downstairs, I couldn’t help but wonder if the town’s generosity might have been the start of Faye’s disorder.