Free Road to Nowhere by Paul Robertson

answer her.
    “Then you must be giving up on it all,” she said.
    “Comes a time when it doesn’t seem to make a difference anymore.
    It’s too hard to fight.”
    February 21, Tuesday
    Louise was fiddling in the kitchen. She had no idea what to fix for supper, and Byron was going to be home any minute. The man liked his dinner prompt.
    Well, she did, too.
    The sun was coming right in the window, like it did this time of year. Angie said she should put up some blinds, but Louise couldn’t abide it. They cluttered up the window, and that was the one place in the kitchen she wanted big and open. There was plenty of clutter everywhere else. She didn’t know what she’d do if Byron hadn’t put up shelves on the wall for all her little things.
    She picked up one that was about her favorite—a little castle with snow, like a fairy tale. She had a sticker on the bottom and she’d written “Christmas 1995 from Matt to Grandma” on it. That nine-year-old boy and his big hugs and he’d spent his own money.
    What she wouldn’t give for one of his hugs right now. She made herself get back to supper before she started thinking about guns and wars and where he was now.
    And there was Byron, slamming the door and dropping his coat on the chair and his lunchbox on top of it. She knew that’s what he was doing, anyway even if she couldn’t see him from the kitchen.
    “What’s supper?”
    “I don’t know yet,” she said.
    Now he was settling into his chair, and the television came on. There was some roast left over and some chicken casserole that he liked.
    “I think I’ll warm up the casserole from Monday.” She turned on the oven and put the dish in. The microwave was faster but she liked a hot casserole dish.
    There, that was taken care of.
    She went out to the front room to hang Byron’s coat in the closet and get his lunchbox to put away. He had the news on and she sat next to him to watch, but he wasn’t watching. He was just staring at the wall.
    “Something happen at the factory today?”
    “They had a meeting. Called everybody up front and Mr. Coates said he was giving us some news.”
    “Well, what was it? New orders?” She’d never seen Byron looking so glum. Surely . . . “He isn’t closing the factory?”
    “No. Well, not yet. But he’s selling it.”
    “He’s selling the factory?”
    “Some big company down in High Point.”
    “Now, Byron, that doesn’t mean anything’s closing. They wouldn’t just buy the factory so they could close it.”
    “They might. One way to get rid of competition.”
    “Fiddlesticks.”
    “It’ll mean bosses coming in from outside that don’t know how we do things, and making changes.”
    Louise could smell the chicken, so it was time to get to work on the table. “What about Jeremy?”
    “Well, sure, since they fought, everyone’s been guessing that he’d never take over. But nobody thought it would come to this.”
    “What else would Mr. Coates do? He must be ready to retire.”
    “Never acted like it.”
    “It might all be for the best, you know.”
    “Well, then I might be ready to retire.”
    “I hope not!” Louise jumped up to get supper on the table. “What would I do with you all day? I don’t have any idea.”
    “Might be about time to retire. I wouldn’t want to see things be all changed around.”
    “Just don’t worry until you have something real to worry about.”
    But she was worrying. That man was all the world to her, and change was hard on him.
    And there’d be a lot of other people worrying, too.
    First that road and now this—why did they have to happen at the same time?
    “Sue Ann, why did I do it?” He didn’t feel like even moving. Kyle had put up a fire in the fireplace, and for that Randy would be eternally grateful. And now all he could do was just sit and imagine the further and endless persecution he would suffer.
    “You had to vote yes at that meeting. It was just like you said.” Sue Ann was such a comfort,