Jeremiah Roberts, somewhat drunk, confused, left the bar and drove to the house where he used to live with his wife.
He forgot it had been taken by the bank. Forgot, he no longer lived there. He went to open the garage door when a dog began to bark, and he realised, he didn’t live there any more.
Stumbling, falling he ran to his car. The people in the house could call the police; if they were armed, would shoot him.
Jeremiah got the car started, drove a few blocks but was so confused, he forgot where he now lived. He pulled over, sat staring, trying to get the pieces to fit.
Finally, recalling his address, he started the car, drove there.
He came in, paid the baby sitter, sent her home. Then Jeremiah sat on his lumpy bed, thinking about those people who had been his ‘close friends’ when Kat was here. Those people who ridiculed and despised him.