Chapter 14

I turned out the light. I watched his shoulders gradually melt downward into sleep. My head had a jackhammer in it and my pillow was as hot as a cooktop. I spooned without spooning—not touching was another spat rule—waiting for him to shift just enough that I could have the cool part of his pillow. Impatient, I finally nudged him. He was immovable.

It wasn’t the season for crickets, but I swear I could hear them.10

Basically “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” was reinstated in our household and a truce, shaky as it was, held.

Dom smelled daily of cigarettes, but I said nothing more. He was preoccupied with the show and especially opening night. After being trod upon, I wasn’t about to snuff out his pacifier, much less step on his victory.