He handed them to me.

The ring was still warm from his pocket.

“Ruth Ann will keep dropping off the junk mail either way,” he said.

“She asked about you at the post office.

I didn’t know what to say to her.”

“Tell her I’m doing fine.”

He climbed into the truck and sat with his hands on the wheel for a while before he started it.

Then he pulled out past the maple tree, and his brake lights shrank at the corner.