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             “She comes in. She doesn’t look around. She just keeps on giving me that look. I ask her what’s wrong. I ask her what she’s doing here. She just pushes her feet across the carpet and gives me that look. I don’t ask about Monica. I just stare at her.”

            The man thumbed through the notebook. Elroy nodded and lifted his drink to his lips.

            “I offer her a drink. She is in my doorway still. You got that? Just doing the schoolgirl routine. I make myself one and stay in the kitchen. She opens and closes her mouth. It looks like a damn fish. I make her a drink anyway. She takes it and I expect her to make a face. I finish mine. I make another. She holds onto hers. When she comes close to me, she smells of cigarettes and flowers. Not daisies or lilacs or real flowers. That stuff girls at the counter spray. Those girls with the make up and nails. She puts her hand on my chest and I want another drink.”