I paused drinking only long enough to say, "You figured what?"
He arched an eyebrow, but made no reply.
"On the porch," I said, "you said you figured something. What was it?"
I hadn't meant to ask. And I hated that I was giving him the satisfaction. But today had been a big enough cluster already that I was off my game and lacking in self-control.
He replied, "I meant, I figured you were a goner."
I paused with the bottle halfway to my lips. "Like what, dead?"
"No," he said. "Worse. And you know what I'm saying."
NowI did.But I didn't see the humor. As I stared in silent wrath, he popped the top off his beer and took a good, long pull. When he lowered the bottle, he said, "You poor, miserable bastard."
