“Really?” He stared at the potato sack. He was numb, that’s how he was. Cauterized. He knew that soon he’d smell the stench of burned flesh and all those nerves that had been seared in half would come screaming to life and he would be in a world of pain. He knew that if he took his concentration for one moment off the here and now and started thinking about the future, he would probably pull on his boots, leave his mother’s house, and jump off the conveniently located bridge-just a two-minute stroll from her front door-into the rocky, ice-rimmed waters of the upper Hudson River.

“I’m okay, I guess,” he said. “Considering.”

Janet looked at him skeptically. “O-kay. And how’s Linda?”

He felt his lips draw tight together. “Busy. She’s redoing all the drapes and stuff she originally did for the Algonquin Waters Spa and Resort.” Pretentious name. Although, having met the owner, he wouldn’t have been surprised if the place had been called the Peasants Stay Out Hotel.

“When’s the last time you saw her?”

“What’s with you and Mom?” Time to change the subject, little sister. “You two don’t usually wrangle over her causes.”

She pulled a face that said, I know what you’re doing, but I’ll play along anyway. “That’s because she’s been sticking to the save-the-earth stuff since… well, since the last Gulf War.” She dug several potatoes out of the bag and dropped them into the sink.

“Stop the development, stop the war-what’s the difference?” He stooped to retrieve the colander from one of the lower cabinets.

“Easy for you to say. You were in Vietnam.”

He snorted a laugh.

“You know what I mean. You weren’t the only freshman in Millers Kill High whose mother was arrested for throwing cow’s blood on the Armory.” She opened a drawer and got the peeler out. “I went to all those sit-ins and lie-ins and marches with her, and it didn’t mean squat.”

“C’mon. You know Nixon was quaking in his boots at the thought of Mom.”