“To Katie Faye’s Band.”

They drank, and as soon as Ryder had put down his glass he stood up and pushed his chair back under the table. “Give me a hug, Young Buddy. Lightning good-byes are the only ones for me.”

Ryder squeezed Leo pretty hard, then he picked him up off the floor an inch or two. He groaned as he let him back down. He held him off at arm’s length and looked him in the face. “Do whatever your CO’s tell you, but don’t expect ’em to know their balls from their nose.” Ryder let go, picked up his can of beer, and paused at the door. “Write me some songs. Adios.” He walked off the lighted stoop to his Impala, started it up, and backed away without looking at the house.

“He’s off to see Helena.” Jim stuck the map in the French book. He placed the small jewelry box on top of it, then he left the table and filled his coffeepot at the sink. To Leo the kitchen felt no bigger than a harp box. He sipped his Pabst and heard Ryder’s tires spin out once on the gravel as they turned onto Paper Boulevard. He knew Jim was right, Ryder would be screwing Helena later tonight. He felt Allie again.

“Dad?”

“Yeah, son.” Jim was digging his spoon into the coffee can, not looking over at Leo. His blue shirt needed tucking in and his shoulders hung somehow more relaxed, his face so calm, so at peace. He blinked and yawned, then he looked at Leo, smiling, waiting.

“Nothing. Thanks for everything. I guess I’ll go to bed.”

Jim wiped his hands on the front of his pants. Leo turned to go but his father took a step, put his arm around Leo’s back, and pulled him shoulder first to him. He squeezed once, held it, and let go. Leo smiled and glanced at him and walked down the hall to his room.

He stripped to his skivvies, shut off the bedside lamp, and lay down on top of the sheet. He heard Jim take care of the kitchen and parlor lights, then make his way down the hall. Jim stopped in the doorway but all Leo could see was the orange-tipped glow of his cigarette. “Will you want breakfast?”

“Coffee and toast, I guess.”