Chapter VII
May 15, 2002
It had been a hectic two years for William and Casey. Their daughter was growing
fast. She was walking and talking. Casey estimated she could say about three
hundred words. William wasn’t sure if it was good or not. His friends didn’t have
kids and he didn’t have another two-year-old to compare her to.
Casey and May had bonded right away. As a baby, May would cry whenever anyone but
Casey held her. Until Casey caught the flu, William hadn’t even realized May wasn’t
sleeping through the night for the first six months. Casey never complained about
sleepless nights or anything related to May. William would have helped more if she
had told him.
May looked exactly like a miniature version of Casey except for their eyes. May had
inherited his brown eyes.
He started community college shortly after May was born. Finals were next week, and
he had one semester left before earning his associate’s degree. To accommodate
classes, he worked the third shift at the gas station. He hated the schedule, but
it gave him time to study and finish assignments during the lulls. On most nights,
he would get one or two customers an hour. The only rush came around two in the
morning after the bars closed, and even then, they bought cigarettes and left.
The schedule left him permanently tired. Even on nights he managed eight hours of