Josh looked at the phone. There they were, father and son, and standing next to each other. That crooked incisor gave it away.

“You have . . .” Chris pointed to his own crooked tooth.

“Yeah.” They looked at each other and smiled, and that ache in Josh’s chest grew.

It was fully dark now, colder than ever. The streetlights cast puddles of light at regular intervals down the road. “Do you need a ride?” Chris asked.

“No, thank you,” Josh said. “I’ll walk.”

“Okay.” His father stood there, an inch or so taller than Josh. “Can I give you a hug?” he asked, and his voice shook.

“I’m not really the hugging type,” Josh said.

“Of course. Sorry. I have no right to ask.”

Don’t be a loser.

“Ah, fuck it. Why not?” he said, and he hugged his father hard, felt the man jerk with a sob. For a second, they just stood there, arms tight around each other.

Then Josh let him go. “Take care, Dad,” he said. He smiled, turned and walked down the street, following the path of light.

28

Joshua

Still month ten

Still the unending month of December

JOSH WAS IGNORING the holidays this year. They were hard to avoid outside in the real world, so he went out as little as possible, still trying to adjust to the fact that he’d met his father, and trying to ignore Christmas.

Lauren had been a Christmas zealot. It felt grotesque that the holiday was happening without her.

Then Jen asked to come over one Saturday afternoon, and Josh said yes instantly. He’d missed her, he realized. The apartment was a mess, even though he’d hired a cleaning lady, a nice woman Asmaa had referred from the Hope Center, but he’d been working a lot, and takeout containers were scattered around. Pebbles was shedding, which didn’t help, so he vacuumed and made the bed. Showered, put on clean clothes, put on coffee and rummaged for cookies or something in his pantry. Ah. Mrs. Kim had brought over those Korean sesame seed cookies, and he seemed to remember that Jen loved them. Yes. He was sure she did.

He hadn’t seen Jen without Darius or the kids for a long time. They’d been a team when Lauren was sick, the two people who loved her the most.

He thought for a minute about his half siblings out in Chicago. It was strangely pleasant to know they were there. His mother had looked at the picture, shrugged, and said, “He looks old.” The subject was then closed. And Josh had put his father’s card in the box with Lauren’s letters, a way for him to tell her he’d done it. He didn’t think he’d ever want to see Christopher Zane again, but you never knew.