“Why won’t you sleep in my bed tonight, Lucia, where 80 it’s warm?” He asked her one night, teasing but mournful, as she stood in her bedroom doorway in a long white gown. We wore invisible chains and invisible blinkers. . I don’t want to get old or to watch my kids get married or retire. Nab and Quilt to the door! Jack, you are my prisoner. Every slight action is influenced by what he imagines would be the opinion of other people. I mean—I mean to do what I can. And tell Pottiswick to mend that lock we broke.
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