Mark’s face fell apart, inch by inch.
Finally he bent down, picked up the clothes off the driveway, righted the suitcase, and reached for Diane.
She slapped his hand away.
“You’re just going to let her throw me out?”
Mark didn’t talk back.
He kept his head down and picked up the loose pill bottles and put them in the case, and what was left of his dignity looked like it had been run over by a car.
The officer stood at the gate. He didn’t come in, and he didn’t speak up for them.
“The deed’s in her name. Work it out between yourselves.”
Mark lifted the suitcase.
Diane still wanted to yell, but the whole yard was watching her.
Her lips shook twice. All she got out was:
“You’ll regret this.”
I held the door. I didn’t step aside.
“The thing I regret is letting you film me on my own lawn long enough to get the shot.”
