Later Ben found him in the kitchen, standing near the back door looking around. Ben was wandering aimlessly with a beer in his hand. They were alone. When he saw Ronny he moved forward; he poured part of his beer in Ronny’s mouth, grinning. “I put your bag in my room.”

“I saw. I was just upstairs.”

“It’s not too bad up there.”

“No. I’ll clean that bathroom tomorrow.”

“I’ll do it. I can make my lazy ass clean another bathroom.”

“I really don’t mind. I like to be busy.”

Ben’s face grew solemn and tender, and he looked as if he might say something. He ran a hand through his hair. “Man.”

“Be careful,” Ronny said.

“Don’t worry.” He put his hands up, and grinned. “I’m just glad we’re both here.”

He walked away with his beer in his hand. His mother called out to him, in the other room, “Don’t guzzle down that beer like it’s candy, son. It’ll go to your head.”

“Sure, Ma.”

“The house feels a lot better. I think so anyway.”

“I know it does.”

“It’s a good thing you listened to your mother yesterday, don’t you think?”

Ben laughed. “You won’t get any argument from me about that.”

Mr. Nickelsen called from the backyard. “These steaks are just about ready, son.”

“I’ll be right out there.”

Ben took a card table from the laundry room and set it up in the den, then went outside, to check on his dad. Mrs. Nickelsen was pleased at her son’s idea, that he wanted the table set in the same room with her. She sat up in bed, touched the flowers, smelled them. Watched her husband with her hands in her lap.

“He’s been better since Ben got home. He has a way of straightening his dad out.” As though she were speaking to herself, almost. “His dad used to be able to do the same thing for Ben but not anymore. With Ben, you’ve either got to beat him or love him. Otherwise you can’t even talk to him. His dad can’t beat him anymore and he loves him but he don’t know how to show it. The way most men are.”

Ronny could hear that she was trying to tell him something in her roundabout way. “You think Ben’s like that?”

“Probably. I can see what he’s feeling most of the time so he doesn’t need to tell me. But I expect he’s like my husband, at least some. I know he feels a lot of love, when it’s waked up in him. He has a big heart.”

Ronny was quiet, watching the men pile the steaks and potatoes onto plates.

“Now you watch,” she said. “That’s dinner right there. You won’t get anything green while my boys cook.”

“That’s fine,” Ronny said. “I can live with it.”

“Do you agree Ben has a big heart?” she asked, in a voice that drew Ronny’s gaze back to her.

“I know he does,” Ronny said.