“I figured you’d moved out of state,” Harold said.

“Nobody could tell me where you went.”

“I didn’t get very far,” Lucas answered.

They spent three hours trading stories.

They argued over whose fault a busted vending machine had been.

Harold remembered Lucas once saving a stray cat from the factory loading dock and insisting it was a quality-control inspector.

Lucas laughed so hard he coughed, then asked for another cup of tea.

I sat at the far end of the table, listening to a life that had existed before the alley.