One: they never had any other kids. He’s never asked why and they’ve never offered. They could easily have handled four or five, from what he can see. He’s never gotten any whiff of fertility issues or any sense the marriage was ever in a fragile state. He senses—and fears—that the reason for just a single kid is they were so happy and fulfilled with little Zacky that they felt no further need or longing.

Two: which is an offshoot of one, he supposes—they always let him do whatever he wanted. No discipline. No expectation. Well, that wasn’t quite accurate. A high expectation of decency. A high expectation of fairness. Of respect for others. But as far as achievement or accomplishment? They had it covered themselves. Don’t worry about it, son. Live your life. That’s why we work as hard as we do. For you. To find meaning in your life that you want. To see you happy.

Leaving him to cast around blindly for meaning and happiness, apparently.

And he knows he has only himself to blame. And it’s such a subtle thing. Because of course, they only want what’s best for him. They are rooting for him in all things. At every moment. Boosters. Come on, Zack! You can do it! Whatever it is, you’ve got the goods!

He’s more than a little ashamed to have such conflicted thoughts about his own good fortune. He keeps them to himself, even with Emily.

Lately, he’s been thinking about the opposite end of the good-fortune scale. Thinking about someone who, he assumes, has had as much bad fortune as Zack has had good.

With Joey out, he’s been wondering about him. Anxiously, of course, but curious too.

Where Joey sleeps. Where he eats. Where he is. Is he close? As close as he can get, getting closer? Or far away, as far as he can get, trying to get even farther?

And wondering, therefore, about Joey’s past. Joey’s parents. Who are they? What were they like? Anything like his own? Some kind of subtle burden like his own? Or some kind of inversion of them?

Leaving one child a highly focused, emotionless killer. And the other a directionless lover, in touch with his emotions, with his softer, gentler side, arguably to his own eternal detriment.

Zack knew he would regret getting a phone again. Starting the dutiful calls home again. “You’re not going to come surprise me here, are you?” asks Zack.

“Well, if we did show up, it sounds like it wouldn’t be much of a surprise,” says his mother coyly.

“I can’t talk to you when I’m working,” says Zack.

“I know. And relax. Nobody’s told us which GreenGirl, and we didn’t ask. Your dad and I will have to drink a lot of coffee to stumble across you at random.”