In a second, Hunter was telling Remy about Candy Land, and about McDonald’s, and about Claude, and Remy was listening with complete attention. He gave me a quick smile to say he’d greet me in a second, once the torrent of information had slowed down.

“Son, you want to go get all your stuff together? Don’t leave anything,” Remy cautioned his son. With a quick smile in my direction, Hunter dashed off to the back of the house.

“Did it go okay?” Remy asked, the minute Hunter was out of earshot. Though in a sense Hunter was never out of hearing, it would have to do.

“Yes, I think so. He’s been so good,” I said, resolving to keep the kick to myself. “We had a little problem on the McDonald’s playground, but I think it led to a good talk with him.”

Remy looked as if a load had just dropped back onto his shoulders. “I’m sorry about that,” he said, and I could have—well, kicked myself.

“No, it was only normal stuff, the kind of thing you brought him here so I could help with,” I said. “Don’t worry about it. My cousin Claude was here, and he played with Hunter at the park, though I was there all the time, of course.” I didn’t want Remy to think I’d farmed Hunter out to any old person. I tried to think of what else to tell the anxious father. “He ate real good, and he slept just fine. Not long enough,” I said, and Remy laughed.

“I know all about that,” he told me.

I started to tell Remy that Eric was asleep in the closet and that Hunter had seen him for a few minutes, but I had the confused feeling that Eric would be one man too many. I’d already introduced the idea of Claude, and Remy hadn’t been totally delighted to hear about that. A typical dad reaction, I guessed.

“Did the funeral go okay? No last-minute hitches?” You never know what to ask about funerals.

“No one threw themselves into the grave or fainted,” Remy said. “That’s about all you can hope for. A few skirmishes over a dining room table that all the kids wanted to load into their trucks right then.”

I nodded. I’d heard many brooding thoughts through the years about inheritances, and I’d had my own troubles with Jason when Gran died. “People don’t always have their nicest face on when it comes to dividing up a household,” I said.

I offered Remy a drink, but he smilingly turned me down. He was obviously ready to be alone with his son, and he peppered me with questions about Hunter’s manners, which I was able to praise, and his eating habits, which I was able to admire, too. Hunter wasn’t a picky kid, and that was a blessing.