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“I want it on the record that I’m saying they’re headed to the altar.”

“You’re always on the record,” Sam says.

Clyde shrugs then rubs his shoulder. “Only when I’m right about something.”

Jimmy takes a slow sip. Greta Goldstein drives by with a honk, and they all raise their hands in unison, like a well-choreographed routine.

“They looked good together yesterday. I drove by twice. She was laughing at him. He was carrying something too wide for the door, and she was showing him how to angle it, and he was ignoring her, doing it his own way. That’s a marriage right there.” Clyde brings his Thermos to his mouth.

“That’s what a good marriage looks like,” Sam says.

The three of them are quiet for a while because they all remembered the other kind. All had the sense that something was going on with Caleb in the last year of his life. Remembered the funeral, Collins in a black dress with Ansel’s hand on her elbow as though it was the only thing keeping her up that day. They remembered the year that came after and the way that Collins barely left her house except to work. The way Ansel had so much pent-up emotion he’d bounce his leg through every poker game until you wanted to strap it with duct tape to the chair.

They remembered a lot. But none of them said anything.

“Good on ’em,” Jimmy finally says.

“Good on ’em,” Sam echoes.

Clyde nods and lifts his Thermos. “To Ansel and Collins.”

The other two men follow suit. “To Ansel and Collins.”

“Now, can we talk about Sutton?” Clyde asks.

“Jesus,” Sam says with exasperation.

Clyde shakes his head. “You know something’s going on with her.”

“I know something’s going on with her because I have eyes, yeah,” Sam says. “I don’t know what because it’s not my business.”

Clyde’s head rocks back with a guffaw. “Not your business because Marleen hasn’t told you yet.” He takes a sip from his Thermos. “Roy kicked her out. That’s what I heard.”

Jimmy’s eyes flicker toward Clyde. “Where’d you hear that?”

“Had to stop by Crow & Clover, and Manuel told me.”

“Roy wouldn’t kick her out,” Sam says.

“All right.” Clyde raises a hand. “Manuel said that Roy told her it was time she made herself a proper place to sleep, which in Roy speak is basically kicking her out.”

“That’s Roy’s way of saying I love you, but figure your life out,” Jimmy says.

“Exactly,” Clyde says. “So Sutton is moving into Ansel’s old room.”

“At Fowler’s place,” Jimmy says.

Clyde nods. “Fowler’s place.”

The three of them sit with that.

“Now,” Clyde says carefully, “I’m not saying anything, but I’m just noting the arrangement.”

“You’re always noting something,” Sam says.

“Just saying—Ansel moves out, Sutton moves in.”

“They’re grown adults,” Jimmy says.