The lights in the room are out, but the drapes are open, revealing the bright moon and the many stars. Esther the bulldog lies between them at shoulder level, her head on her paws, her forehead wrinkled and worried looking. Lester and Candy are fully clothed, on top of the covers, and Candy is holding Lester’s handkerchief pressed against her nose. After a moment, she says, “Okay, I think I’m done crying now. Sorry.”Lester looks over at her. “Oh, no; don’t apologize. I’m honored! Truly. My wife used to say that to cry in front of someone was to offer them a compliment.”“She did?”“Yes.”“What else did she used to say?”He looks out at the night sky. “Well, she called stars silent commentators. Ancient, silent commentators.”“Huh. That’s nice. What else?”Lester’s chest hurts now, but he says in as easy a tone as he can muster, “Oh, she said a lot of things.” He thinks about how, after the reconciliation that came after their first major argument, he told Kathleen he feared he’d lost her forever.
