I called Harbaughs about the radiators. He answered. Ray Harbaugh, the handsome looking guy who came to our house when we first moved here to service our radiators. He was recently widowed. His wife was a graphic designer, too, and she died of cancer.
I thought about him after Barrett died. I think I even looked for his wife's grave at the cemetery. I knew now how it was for him.
"Oh, I remember you guys." he said on the phone. "You're husband's name is Barrett, right?" Oh boy. I froze for a nanosecond. Here comes the words out loud. When I have to say it out loud it gives me a jolt, like I'm shocked all over again that it's really true.
"Well, he passed away." I replied. "It's been a year and a half already. I've been going crazy in this house all by myself."
"I'm sorry to hear that, " Ray said, and I knew he really meant it. He'll be coming up this afternoon to look at the radiators again. I'll be looking at him with a new perspective this time.
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