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Several days later I was unable to do the same for him.”“That must have been terrible,” she said. “Are you angry about the way the War ended?”“I’m just glad that it ended. Let’s say, I fought in Vietnam and lost.”“You don’t look like a loser.”“No man you smile at can feel like one. It must be getting dark outside. May I walk to your car with you?”“Yes.” When I put the book back on the shelf, she asked, “You aren’t going to buy it?”“I might come back for it.”“I have a copy.”“Where are you parked?”“Along 36th Street.”Together we climbed the circular stairs to the South Transept, and crossed the main floor to the North Entrance. The congregation had greatly thinned out, but some people were still inspecting statues and stain glass windows. I wanted them to think we were a couple.I opened the door beneath the North Rose Window for her and we stepped out. The sky was darker. The fog was thicker. The air was colder and smelled like the inside of a refrigerator.We walked along 36th Street. With some assistance from the government and what Gwen earned, we rented a small one bedroom flat. It was in a reasonably nice part of town and was nicely furnished, if a little spartan. It had a sofa-bed in the living room, that I slept on, and then a small single bedroom that Gwen used. A little bathroom sat opposite Gwen's room with a bath with shower head. There was a tiny kitchen off the living room with a hob, fridge, sink, microwave, and a small oven, enough to cook meals for the two of us. It wasn't much but it was our place. With just me and Gwen there, it felt more like a home than our parents big farm house ever had, warm and cosy. In stark contrast to the big, cold, draughty, forbidding place I had grown up in. Often in the evenings me and Gwen would sit curled up on the sofa together watching some TV or reading, happy in each others' company.One complication in helping out with the chores was my still-damaged hand. It had almost regenerated now, but there had been an.
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