“Yes sir,” Katy replied politely but rolled her eyes.

Jake’s wife Morgan walked out carrying Katy’s lime-green sleeping bag and a pink pillow.

“Please make sure she goes to the bathroom. Last time she didn’t,” she said with a little worry mixed with sarcasm.

“Well, I asked her. She just didn’t really like the facilities. It’s not exactly the Hilton. But I’ll make sure she goes. Don’t you want to come?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“No, I’m gonna rent a movie, curl up on the couch, and relax.”

“We’ll be home by lunchtime…and I’m bettin’ we’ll have a turkey. Don’t worry about Katy. I’ll take care of her. Tate’s already there and will have the lights on and a fire built. She’ll have a blast.”

“When are you going to finish that flower bed in the backyard?” Morgan asked, not caring if they killed a turkey. She hoped they didn’t because she knew Jake would claim it was Katy’s first and would want to get it stuffed for display in the den. To Morgan, Jake’s improvised “trophy room” already resembled a frozen zoo with all of his dead critters. The deer heads seemed to stare at her; the turkeys were hideously ugly; the ducks she could tolerate, but his full-mount bobcat made her sad. Why shoot a cat? she always wondered.

Morgan hated hunting season. She hated deer season. She hated duck season. And then, just when things seemed to settle back down, spring turkey season rolled around-which she hated even more. She didn’t really hate the “sport”; it just took up so much time-Jake’s time, time that he should spend earning more money or making home improvements. Turkey hunting was especially exhausting for Jake because of the early hours. Turkey hunters operate like a clandestine cult, waking at obscene hours, painting their faces, and driving all over the country in the dark. The result: very little yard work got accomplished in the spring when it was most needed. While the neighbors were busy trimming bushes and mulching, Jake was either gone or asleep on the couch recovering from an early-morning hunt. The reality was that their yard looked better than most. Jake somehow always found time to get it done. But Morgan couldn’t recognize it. Every time she saw Jake lying on the couch, it was a huge source of resentment.