I pulled into the yard of the Doyle place, the Rasi place where she had been born. I saw that the boy had finished painting the boat.
"It looks even worse than I remember," she said. She got out of the car and went toward the porch. The chickens were under the porch. The dog lay on the porch. He thumped his tail. Antoinette leaned over and scratched him behind the ear. He thudded the tail with more energy.
Her sister came to the doorway, dirty towel in her hand.
"Hello, Anita," Antoinette said calmly.
"What are you doing here? Doyle don't want you coming around here. You know that."
"——Doyle," Antoinette said.
"Don't use that kind of language with kids in the house. I'm warning you." The girl who had cried came up behind her mother and stared at us.
"You're so damn cautious about the kids," Antoinette said with contempt. "Hi there, Sandy."
"Hi," the girl said in a muted voice.
"You give the kids such a nice home and all, Anita."