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rugs were worn so thin in spots, you could see the

wood floor beneath them. There were glasses and

bottles on tables and the ashtrays were full of butts.

On closer look I could see places where Steve's father

had let a cigarette ash burn into the sofa or the easy

chair. I knew his father must have done it because

Steve didn't smoke and I also knew how careless

Momma used to be when she drank and smoked. "None of the windows had curtains, just shades,

and the house itself had a musty, damp smell. Jade grimaced as if she had stomach gas. "The kitchen looked somewhat better, probably because Steve had done some last minute cleaning in anticipation of my arrival. They had a round, badly chipped wooden table and chairs in it, a microwave as well as a stove and a refrigerator that looked like it was threatening to drop dead. The motor made a small clang. The walls throughout the house needed a good whitewash, and in the kitchen, the linoleum floor was buckling in the corners and badly stained in many

spots.

"There was little decoration on the walls, no

flowers, no pictures, no knickknacks, no feminine

touch anywhere. I had a glimpse of his father's room

when he showed me the rest of the small house. There

were clothes lying on the floor, over chairs and on the

unmade bed. Steve's room was neat, but the furniture

looked ready for the antique farm, if you know what I

mean, dull finish, chipped and scratched, just like

most of the pieces in the house. There was just an old,

faded oval gray area rug beside his bed.

"Steve could see my reaction to his home. It's

always hard for me to hide what I'm thinking I've got

a pair of eyes that might as well be magnifying

glasses over my thoughts."

"You can say that again," Jade muttered. I glared at her for a moment and then returned

to telling them about Steve.

"'When my mother was alive, this place looked

decent at least,' he told me.

"'I bet,' I said and he laughed at how I had said

it. 'I mean you and your father aren't much at