Even though the possibility of Carlos being dead had crossed my mind, I still feel stunned by it. I try to put the conversation and the news out of my head as I take a quick shower, refill Ezra’s food bowl, surf through the three hundred or whatever channels on my TV only to find nothing, and remind myself I should make something to eat. I’m not hungry, but know I will be later. I go into the kitchen and open a can of tuna to make some tuna salad, which sends Ezra completely crazy. He rubs frantically against my legs, sending up mighty yowls. It’s almost as though the chubby little guy is in distress! I’m tempted to just set the can down before him but know I’ll be cleaning it all up later, probably off the white rug in the bathroom. I quickly chop some onion, a stalk of celery, and add a ton of mayonnaise to the salad. It’s comforting—so sue me. I mix everything together, put some bread in the toaster, and, while it’s toasting, do what I want to avoid—pour myself a large tumbler of gin and tonic.
