Pulling into her driveway, she glimpses him duck behind the chimney and wonders if the neighbors saw.
Putting away the groceries, she tries to ignore his heavy steps. But coffee cups chatter in the cabinet. Spoons gossip in the drawer.
His sooty voice sings from the fireplace, promises to shimmy the downspout and snatch her away to his power-line world. She imagines his upside-down face at the window, hair hanging wildly, cheeks burning with blood.
The next morning she scrambles a few eggs and sets the table for two. A loose shingle thumps in the wind. Two hearts beating as one.