But things don’t always get resolved; people don’t always get to see it coming and prepare. War, catastrophic accidents, the betrayal of a body shutting down all of a sudden without warning—the number of those who have had no time to get ready is too large to count. Frank’s own mother had been so consumed by her grief, and then with her concerns about a new baby, that nothing else seemed to matter to her, and then Lil did that exact same thing. She carried her big sack of grief like a badge of honor as she catered to first her father and then whomever from the outside world needed catering to. And of course she was there for the children, and she was a good mother, but then they were gone and off at school, and instead of giving him that time, she filled up even more spaces with those in need, and so of course it was easy for Frank, to fall, to slip—and of course he looked like the bad guy! He fell into something he had never seen or noticed before, like snow in southern climates where it is so rare.

At first, it was just letters, little friendly back-and-forth exchanges that allowed his mind to wander away from whatever was bothering him at the time, and there’s no crime in that, no crime in communicating with a like-minded creature, and yet what about the way he chose not to mention it, the way he hid the letters away in files of schoolwork that appeared so boring and messy, who would want to look? And then there were those times in the empty-nest years—Lil so strange and distracted—that the conversations happened in person; it was certainly nothing he ever would have planned.