Gary set the towel down.

Then he saw where I was looking, at the sink, at the plate still sitting there with the yolk gone brown and hard on the porcelain.

“I’ll get that before I go,” he said.

“No,” I said.

“Leave it.”

He went out the front door and didn’t go straight to the truck.

He leaned on the porch railing with both hands and looked down at my tomato plants.

“You’re still watering these,” he said.