I was lifting a beer to my lips and scanning the newspaper when I heard a loud knock at the window next to my head. I jumped up, ready to run, straining to see into the darkness. My brother’s face appeared, grinning maniacally, nose pressed against the glass. His partial plate wasn’t in, and he looked like a jack-o’-lantern. I hurried to the door, whispering to my husband as I went, “Christ, he would have to come when I’m having a beer.”
I opened the door wide to the cold night air. The doorstep was a solid patch of ice, glinting in the porch light.
