Every Night at Six Thirty, Bob Drove Away, Until His Other Wife Said My Name

“Supper will be on the table in ten minutes,” I said.

“I can’t stay for supper tonight,” Bob said, reaching for his coat on the wall peg.

“You told me Uncle John was stable for the weekend,” I said.

“He is,” Bob said.

“But the nurse rang my store phone at five to tell me his pipe’s leaking under the kitchen sink again.”

“I thought his line was cut off for the rewiring,” I said.

Bob stopped with his right arm halfway into his coat sleeve.