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Show 113 forgetting the dog food, and Alice agreed that he should have gone. "He told her he would, you know. As long as Mrs. Harms keeps Herman off our front yard, I think we'd best see that he gets his dog food." The plates were heavy, fine, cream-colored china. How nice it would be, Sharon thought, to have such china one day. To set such a table for guests. She tried to picture Roger in the kitchen, as Mr. Green now was, helping with the meal. But the picture would not come. Would not develop, would not flush out. And then suddenly it did-but the man was unidentifiable. Yes, she could see herself passing back and forth in some future dining room, laying out the china and silver -but the man in the kitchen, her husband, was not Roger. He was faceless, she could not see him. But she could sense him. And he was not Roger. "A penny for your thoughts?" Alice remarked. "Oh-" Sharon started, "I was just wondering about the napkins, I guess." "There in the top drawer," Alice pointed to the china cabinet, Should she feel guilty, Sharon wondered, about not visualizing Roger in the kitchen, as her husband? No, she decided. It was not something over which she had any control. It just was. Did one, after all, choose a husband? She suspected not. One simply chose who would not be a husband. Maybe someday, she thought, she would picture Roger there. But she knew, even as she told herself this, that she did not really believe it. She forced it from her mind as Alice brushed past to place the candlesticks on the table. "There, that does it," Alice said. "Now if Roger would just |