They all laughed a little.
On the couch Lyle watched them talk. After a time he said, I think I’ll have to go now. Before I do I wonder if we might pray together. And he bowed his head, they looked at him, at his dark head, and they all bowed their heads too and he prayed, O God, Our Father, we ask you to take particular care of this family and this man here. We ask in your infinite mercy that you bring him the comfort and peace that passeth all human understanding and the assurance of thy son’s own death and resurrection. While he prayed Lorraine looked at him sitting on the couch across the room with his head lowered and his hands folded together and she looked at her father and he was watching the preacher too. Then Lyle finished and said, May you hear our prayer, oh Lord. Amen. He stood and shook hands all around and touched Dad Lewis on the shoulder and Lorraine went with him out the front door onto the porch.
Thank you for coming, she said.
I don’t want to bother your father, but I’ll come again if that’s all right.
Yes. I think it would be.
I don’t know that he’s very religious.
No. Not in any orthodox way.
I understand that. In his own way perhaps.
Perhaps.
Well. I’ll be going. He held out his hand to shake hers and instead she surprised him and hugged him. He was a good deal taller than she was.
Thank you for coming, she said again.
He went down the walk to his car parked at the street and she stood and watched him drive away. Then she sat down on the porch swing in the shade of the house and took out her cigarettes and smoked. The air was hot and dry and clear, but it was better in the shade. Then Alice, the girl next door, came up in front of the wrought iron fence. She turned and looked out at the empty street and then turned and looked at Lorraine.
Hello, Alice.
How do you know my name?
My mother told me. Why don’t you come up here and talk to me.
I don’t know who you are.
I used to live in this house. When I was a girl like you are.
I don’t know if I should, Alice said.
You can ask your grandmother, if you want to. Your mother and I used to play together.
The girl stood looking at her, then she looked out at the street again and finally she opened the gate and came up on the porch.
You can sit down if you want. Here, beside me.
The girl slid onto the swing and they began to move it slowly. Lorraine took out her cigarettes again.
Do you always smoke?
Once in a while.
My mother’s boyfriend smoked all the time.
Lorraine blew smoke out to the side and they rocked the swing in the hot air so that it felt a little cooler as if there were a breeze.
What did you play with my mother?
Well. She was younger than me. She was closer to my brother Frank’s age. We played at night under the streetlight at the corner up there and we played out back in the barn.
What was she like, my mother?
She was very nice. She was fun to be with.
Oh.
That’s right, she was, and I’m so sorry she died like she did, so young, Lorraine said. I’m very sorry. She was a good person. I miss her.
Grandma says I’m lucky to have someone to take me in.
Yes, I guess so. I guess you are. And you can come over here and see us if you want anytime.
He’s dying too, isn’t he.
My father?
He’s dying, isn’t he.
But you don’t have to be afraid of him. He’s just an old man who’s sick. He wouldn’t hurt you. You can come over and see me. We can do something together.
Like what?
I don’t know. We’ll have to think of it.
Are you done smoking now?
I’m done with this one.
Alice got up and brought the ashtray from the porch rail and held it for her.
Thank you, Lorraine said and stubbed out the cigarette.
You’re welcome.
She put the ashtray back and sat down again and they swung in the hot afternoon.
In the house the women were still talking.
Is he Mexican, did anyone ever say? Willa asked. He’s so dark.
No, Mary said. I don’t think so.
On his mother’s side, I mean.