She stared at him accusingly. “Did you get the groceries?”
He thumped the side of his head. “Damn.”
“You said you’d go after work.”
“I meant to. I drove straight past. Went clean out of my head.”
“That’s an excuse.”
“It’s true. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“You don’t want to remember, that’s the problem.”
“I’m the same with names, you know that. My memory’s shot. I’ve got too many things to think about. Stuff at work. And my parents. And the show. And the group. There’s so much going on, I never get any of it done and it swirls around my head.”
She looked him in the eye. “What are we going to do about dinner?”
“I don’t know,” he said, running from the room. It was one more thing to think about and he didn’t have the time.