“What difference does it make whether the garage door is closed?” she snarled.

“It keeps some of the heat out, and when we keep some of the heat out, the air conditioner doesn’t have to work so hard. And when the air conditioner doesn’t work so hard, it saves us money! But you don’t ever think about that, do you? The money we have isn’t going to last forever, especially if you keep pissing it away doing stupid shit like leaving the garage door open.”

“So you’re saying I’m going to drive us into bankruptcy by leaving a garage door open? Sitting around the house for a year has driven you crazy, Joe.”

I straightened up, wadded the paper towel, and tossed it in the wastebasket under the sink.

“Screw you,” I said as I walked past her towards the bedroom. I grabbed a pair of shorts, some socks, and a T-shirt from the dresser and my running shoes from the closet and went back to the bathroom to change. Just as I finished tying my shoes, Caroline appeared.

“So do you want to tell me what’s going on with you?” she said.

“Nothing’s going on.”

“You haven’t been in the house five minutes and you’ve already terrified Rio, slammed the dishwasher, and sworn at me for leaving a garage door open. Something’s going on. Where have you been for the past two days?”

I looked up at her. The anger was gone from her face, and the tone of her voice told me she was genuinely concerned.

“I went to Jonesborough to watch Billy Dockery’s trial,” I said.

“I knew it,” she said. “I’ve been reading about it in the newspaper. I knew you wouldn’t be able to stay away. Is it still going on?”

“No. They acquitted him again. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a prosecutor do a poorer job of trying a case.”

“Come on out to the kitchen table,” she said as she reached out and took my hand. “Let’s talk.”