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years. It was his turn. Let her deal with the pressure of a nine-to-five job for a change. Why should he have to put up with all the crap?
    Monroe parked in the driveway, paused, took several deep breaths, then walked into the house.
    His wife was in the living room, sitting in a rocking chair, holding a cup of tea.
    “You’re home early.”
    “Well, I’ve got to tell you something,” he began, leaning against the mantel. He paused to let her get nervous, to rouse her sympathies. “There’s been a big layoff at the agency. Foxworth wanted me to stay but they just don’t have the money. Most of the other senior people are going too. I don’t want you to be scared, honey. We’ll get through this together. It’s really a good opportunity for both of us. It’ll give you a chance to start teaching again. Just for a little while. I was thinking—”
    “Sit down, Charles.”
    Charles? His mother called him Charles.
    “I was saying, a chance—”
    “Sit down. And be quiet.”
    He sat.
    She sipped her tea with a steady hand, eyes scanninghis face like searchlights. “I had a talk with Carmen this morning.”
    His neck hairs danced. He put a smart smile on his face and asked, “Carmen?”
    “Your girlfriend.”
    “I—”
    “You what?” Cathy snapped.
    “Nothing.”
    “She seemed nice. It was a shame to upset her.”
    Monroe kneaded the arm of his Naugahyde chair.
    Cathy continued, “I didn’t plan to. Upset her, I mean. It’s just that she’d somehow got the idea we were in the process of getting divorced.” She gave a brief laugh. “Getting divorced because I’d fallen in love with the pool boy. Where’d she get an idea like that, I wonder?”
    “I can explain—”
    “We don’t have a pool, Charles. Didn’t it occur to you that that was a pretty stupid lie?”
    Monroe’s hands slipped together and he began worrying a fingernail. He’d almost told Carmen that Cathy was having an affair with a neighbor or with a contractor. Pool boy was the first thing that came to mind. And, yes, afterwards he did think it was pretty stupid.
    “Oh, if you’re wondering,” Cathy continued, “what happened was someone from the jewelry store called. They wanted to know whether to send the receipt here or to Carmen’s apartment. By the way, she said the earrings were really tacky. She’s going to keep them anyway. I told her she ought to.”
    Why the hell had the clerk done that? When he’dplaced the order he’d very explicitly said to send the receipt to the office.
    “It’s not what you think,” he said.
    “You’re right, Charlie. I think it’s probably a lot worse.”
    Monroe walked to the bar and poured himself another gin. His head ached and he felt stuffy from too much liquor. He swallowed a mouthful and set the glass down. He remembered when they’d bought this set of crystal. A sale at Saks. He’d wanted to ask for the clerk’s phone number but Cathy had been standing nearby.
    His wife took a deep breath. “I’ve been on the phone with a lawyer for three hours. He seemed to think it won’t take much longer than that to make you a very poor man. Well, Charlie, we don’t have much more to talk about. So you should pack a suitcase and go stay somewhere else.”
    “Cath . . . This is a real bad time for me—”
    “No, Charles, it will be bad. But it’s not bad yet. Good-bye.”
    A half hour later he was finished packing. As he trudged down the stairs with a large suitcase Cathy studied him carefully. It was the way she examined aphids when she spritzed them with bug spray and watched them curl into tiny dead balls.
    “I—”
    “Good-bye, Charles.”
    Monroe was halfway to the front hall when the doorbell rang.
    He set the suitcase down and opened the door. He found two large sheriff’s deputies standing in front of him. There were two squad cars in the driveway and twomore deputies on the lawn. Their hands were very close to their pistols.
    Oh, no. Foxworth was pressing charges!