My mom leaned in, and the way she did it, you could see for a second how strong she is. In her core. If I keep riding a bike and doing dangerous outdoor things, I might get as strong as my mom.

“The time is now,” she said. “My son is ready to talk, and my husband has a job to do. This is not just about him.”

Derek nodded. “Good for you,” he said. “Come in.”

This time, there were no people in the living room area.

I wondered where all the patients were.

“Pretty dead around here when it’s not visiting hours,” said Kate. “Poor Dad. He hates peace and quiet. He likes things busy.”

“I’m sure he prefers this to the situation he’s going to find himself in when he gets out,” said my mom. “Sorry, kids. That came out harsher than I intended.”

Kate held up her hands. “No need. I like it! Sparky! More of that please.”

My mom gave Kate a stare like the one she gave Derek. A strong core stare.

“For reals, Mom. You sound like you’re done taking the old merde-oh.”

“No swearing, Kate,” said my mom.

“It’s French. Doesn’t count.”

We sat down in leather chairs. Listening to my mom and my sister bicker at each other took my mind off my own thoughts. I didn’t like it, exactly, due to not enjoying conflict, but it was better than being afraid of the future and thinking lousy thoughts. Maybe that’s why they did it—arguing, I mean. Maybe it took their minds off everything.

Derek was behind the front desk, speaking quietly into the phone.

I tried to hear what he was saying but couldn’t.

Then I stared at the carpet. It was very hotel-like. I’ve always liked hotel carpets because they usually have such interesting patterns. The fancier the hotel, the wilder the carpet. That made me think about Ben and Fisherman. Had they ever stayed in a fancy hotel with a complicated carpet? I had a hard time picturing it. I had a hard time picturing me in one too. My fancy hotel carpet days were probably over.

I actually jumped when Derek came over and asked us to come with him, because I was so busy thinking about carpets.

My mom grabbed her big bag and handed it to Derek; Kate gave him her lumpy pouch purse that she sewed herself when she and Cavendish and Lavender were trying to be “makers,” because they can never just do stuff without giving it a trendy name.

“You have anything, Rodney?”

I shook my head and felt sort of sorry for myself that I didn’t even have a wallet or anything. Maybe next year I’ll get a wallet. Find some stuff to put in it.

Everything felt slowed down. Maybe if we all slowed down enough, we wouldn’t have to go through with this.