“What?”

“He told me you would call.” She faded away for a moment.

“Take your time,” Ronny said, when he knew she was listening again. “I’m not in any hurry.”

“He just had to get out of here. Dad driving him crazy. And this morning was awful. So I sent him to you early.”

“He sounded like he was feeling it yesterday.”

“He’ll tell you about it.” She took a breath. “I can’t talk much longer, it’s good to hear from you though.”

“I’ll see you when I get there.”

But there was a sound he heard, something beyond the long-distance connection. He could feel her anguish through the line and turned toward the phone, leaned into the partition there, and sadness came over him. “He really needs somebody to talk to,” she said. “I’m worried about him.” She made a sound like a sob, and then another. She could not stop herself. He waited. She said, “I didn’t mean to do this but it’s been a hard day. Let me go.”

“Take care of yourself.”

He put the phone receiver on the hook when it started to buzz and stood and walked around the student union lobby, went in the bathroom, and splashed his face with water.

At the boardinghouse he opened the door to his room and a shadow turned on the bed. Ben sat up, backlit by the twilight. Shorts and a tee shirt, barefoot. Not the same feeling, though; something had made him smaller, more lonely. “I booked it,” he said. “I thought I might get here before you made the call.”

“I talked to your mom. She told me you were on the way.”

That broken expression, anger and hurt. “She answer the phone?”

“Yes.”

He made a sound of disgust, getting off the bed. “I knew she wouldn’t leave it to Dad. But she had no business sitting up.”

“She was pretty weak. She sounded all right at first but she loses her voice when she talks.”

His lips were set in a hard line, his brow furrowed. He was trying not to feel too much. “I know. It gets better the days after treatment. But then she has to go back for another one.”

They stood there looking at each other. The changes in Ronny’s body were immediate, something unfolding inside him, a warmth spreading through. In spite of what they were talking about: a surge of joy at seeing Ben, at the reality he had been granted. They were watching each other eye to eye. The rest of the world receded.

“Come on,” Ronny said. “Let’s walk. All right?”

“You want to go out?”

“Yeah. I do.”

Ben frowned and looked around, slipped on his sneakers, shouldered past Ronny, waited at the door, then came back into the room, and they held each other. He was big and warm, stilled with hurt. He rubbed his cheek onto Ronny’s, slow and easy, and they breathed against each other. Desire, yes, but for something else, for this space where they stood so close, for the quiet of it. Tension flowed all through Ben, wound so tight he nearly shivered, so Ronny squeezed him hard, and Ben made a sound, pulled Ronny against him, and then released. He made a sound again. “I been waiting for this all day.”