stepfather

It\’s Davidson, as in Ronald Davidson, my stepfather. He died yesterday at 62 and that\’s why I\’m at a funeral home out on Charleston Boulevard in Las Vegas. My mom is here, too, and though there are copious boxes of proper tissue in the place, she is clinging to the roll of toilet paper she\’s had by her side since returning from the hospital with nothing but a bag of Ron\’s stuff: slippers, a stack of Louis L\’Amour paperbacks, his watch.