Molly stares, then laughs, then laughs some more.
“Will you sign it?” says Tim.
I recognize the cover as a painting by my great-uncle Evelyn. It depicts two pairs of discarded shoes — one men’s, one women’s — at the foot of an unmade bed. The center of the mattress is stained, and in the stain’s center is a half-eaten heart-shaped box of candy.
“I’ll sign it if you read it,” says Uncle Molly, damp but warm, and happy. “If you read it aloud.”
Tim tosses back a shot of Bushmill’s and opens the card. Molly closes his eyes to take in the voice of a stranger reading his short verse from when Molly was 18. It’s over so quickly.
“Tim,” says Uncle Molly, signing the back of the card. “What are you and your family doing for Christmas this Halloween?”
”Burning,” says Tim cheerily. “Burning in hell.”
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