Ronny swallowed, easing against the seat. The sense of panic subsided. “I can do that.”

He shook his head. “It’s like you always said, and I fucking wouldn’t listen. There isn’t going to be any time. We got every fucking thing else, but we didn’t get that.”

“As long as I don’t have to think you’re gone for good, I’ll be all right,” Ronny said.

“I don’t know how long.”

“When you know, call.”

“That’s my boy,” he said. “I will.”

He was quiet, holding Ronny’s hand, driving the Impala. If he had any hope that his mother was going to live, he was speaking from another place.

“I know I’ll be back this fall,” he said, “and maybe before. I’m not going to miss that last year, not after being a redshirt. If there’s any time I ever wanted to play football, it’s now.”

“Why?”

“I’m going to want to smash some things. I’m going to need it.”

“What about the sticking-by-you part? Don’t you already know I’ll do that?”

He ran his hand over Ronny’s cheek. “I might have teammates at the funeral, and coaches. They’re not all very bright, but some of them are. Tate is, for one. Some of them are going to see us together and know. I know it. There’s no way I’m going to be able to keep from leaning on you. So you’re going to have to stick with me with all that happening.”

“I’ll do it. They can’t kill me at a funeral.”

Mrs. Nickelsen died in the hospital the next day. Ronny was faithful to his promise and stayed by Ben, sitting in the next chair in the hospital, waiting while things worsened. Ronny never went in to visit Mrs. Nickelsen; she sent word to say hello and Nina said she had been asking about him. She was thinking about her son to the end, wondering how he would manage without her, who would take care of him.

They went home in a daze and Ronny lay beside Ben on his bed. Nina took charge of the funeral arrangements. She came once and asked Ben to go with her so they could talk, and he came back and collapsed again, grasping Ronny, terrifyingly silent. He worked himself into a state and broke the chest of drawers in his room, smashing every piece of it, leaving only a pile of wreckage mixed with the clothing it had stored. Nina came to the door but Ronny shook his head at her and she went away, frightened. Ben raged and stood there, face a mess of snot and slobber and tears. When he was simply breathing Ronny brought him back to bed. At first he grabbed Ronny, lunged at him, dug his fingers into Ronny’s shoulders, but then he collapsed and cried and Ronny eased him onto the bed and held him. He sobbed until he was empty.

Ronny got a cloth and washed his face. “Just lie back and let me do this.”