“Why are you telling people I touched your balls, you pinkie-dick juicer?”

“Nina?”

“I didn’t go anywhere near your balls, Booker, and you know it.”

“How did you . . .”

“Milly Beth Henshaw just heard from Homer Gladstone that I touched your balls. Who the hell are you telling this to?”

“Baby, you got the wrong idea.”

“You’re an asshole, Booker. It’s over.”

“Nina, wait. It’s not what you—”

“Cole?”

“Yeah, Mom, it’s me. I didn’t expect you to answer the phone.”

“My God, Cole! Are you all right? I just heard what happened. Is it true about the bus? About your hand? Cole, why didn’t you tell me about your hand? My God, what time is it, and you’re just calling me now?”

“Mom, calm down. I’m all right.”

“Where are you? I’ve been sitting here watching the news and … oh, those poor boys … all those poor parents. Cole, come home . . .”

“Mom, calm down. I’ll be home soon.”

“Soon? Honey, you have to sleep . . .”

“Soon, Mom. I promise.”

“Cole . . .”

“What is it?”

“I’m … I’m sorry you had to see me like that last night. And for all the other times. I’m so sorry for all of it. I want you to know that it’s over. I promise. Cole, are you still there?”

“I gotta go, Mom.”

“Honey?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Mom. I gotta go.”

He hung up the pay phone and wondered if she really meant it, if the life she had lived since his father had left them was finally over. Had all that happened to him yesterday lit some kind of fire in her? Would that be the greater good to come out of all this?

There was no point speculating now. Much as he wanted to believe her, he couldn’t. Much as he wanted to reflect on the first sober exchange he and his mother had shared in months, he forced it out of his mind—partly for fear of being let down, but mostly because his mind was already occupied with far too much.

He raked his fingers through his hair and rubbed his tired eyes. His mother had been right about one thing—he needed sleep. He had been awake for more than thirty hours. The only reason he hadn’t gone home already was because he hadn’t wanted to face his mother. Whether he would have found her hungover and snoring, or awake and panicked, he hadn’t been prepared to deal with either. That’s why he had broken the ice over the phone. That done, he wondered if he just might be able to stomach going home. He decided he couldn’t do anything without a cup of coffee first.