He’d spent the past week thinking about his dad, about the way he treated people and the way he taught Cody to treat people. And for the first time in his life, he realized he wanted to make his dad proud. He didn’t want to atone for his death or make himself pay some sort of penance—he wanted to show the world that his father’s influence was greater than anyone else’s.

He rang the doorbell and waited, surveying the quiet street until the door opened.

JoEllen stared at him from the other side of the screen. “Cody?”

“Hi, Mrs. Chambers,” he said.

She opened the door and motioned for him to come inside. “You know you’re not allowed to call me that.”

He willed away the tension that hung between them. “Hey, Mama Jo.”

Her face melted into a sad smile, hope etched on its edges.

“Is Mr. Chambers here?”

“You mean Warren?”

He nodded.

“Follow me.”

He did, straight through the wide entryway and into the house, noting the photos of Louisa that lined tables and walls.

JoEllen turned and caught him staring. She stilled. “Have you talked to her?”

He shook his head, wishing his answer were different.

“I understand it’s hard,” she said. “But my daughter loves you. I mean, Louisa loves everyone, but she really loves you.”

He forced himself not to dwell on her words. He wasn’t here for Louisa. He was here for himself. Besides, he didn’t doubt that they loved each other—he only doubted that their circumstances would allow their love to exist.

JoEllen continued on toward the back of the house. She led him to the living room, where the Red Sox game played on a huge television. He wouldn’t think about the quality of their life compared to the quality of his mother’s. He wouldn’t think about it because if he did, he’d have to leave. And he’d come for a reason.

“Warren, you have a visitor,” JoEllen said.

Louisa’s dad turned, and when he saw Cody, his face fell. The regret and shame he’d displayed that night in the hospital waiting room had returned. Cody wanted him to feel those things. It was an ugly desire, and he tried to force it aside.

“Cody?” Warren stood. “Is everything all right? Your mother—?”

“She’s fine, sir,” Cody said.

JoEllen turned toward him. “Would you like something to drink, Cody?”

“Water would be great.”

She raced off toward the kitchen, which was three times the size of his mother’s, he’d noticed on the way in.

Stop it.

“Have a seat, son,” Warren said.