the creek bottom twenty minutes ago,” Travis said, setting two yellow coffee mugs on the plastic placemats. “Thought we could use a treat before the high school gym fills up.”
He picked up a cream-filled long john and handed it across the counter to me on a folded paper towel.
“Did Mason get his shoes tied for tonight?” he asked.
“He is in the front room,” I said.
Travis smiled, a quick, broad motion that showed his side teeth, and wiped his thumb on a paper napkin. “I will go see how far he got with those red checkers.”
I stood alone by the stove holding the long john while the electric clock over the refrigerator clicked toward four o’clock.
In the living room, Travis sat right down on the braided rug beside Mason’s wooden game board. He pulled his long legs up, crossed his ankles in his clean work
