The plan, when he got home, was to redecorate the foyer. He would replace everything and take down the painting from where Donna had insisted on hanging it.

When they had bought the house and moved in together, she’d found it wrapped in blankets during the bustle of combining his meager belongings with hers and Carly’s. She’d nailed it up before he could stop her.

But he’d tried to.

Oh, wait. I didn’t have that out. Don’t . . . I mean, do you really want that there?

It goes great! Look, it’s perfect. I didn’t figure you for an antique-y type.

I’m not. It’s not really my taste.

Don’t get defensive. It’s sweet. Do you really not like it? Is it just a sentimental thing? A gift from an old girlfriend or something?

No, no, nothing like that. It’s just . . .

A family heirloom? Hang on, is this thing a real antique?

No! It’s . . . it’s fine. It’s just a little embarrassing. Yeah, I bought it. Some people have comfort food. I’ve got comfort . . . colors.

Well, I like it. And I like that I learned something new about you just now. And that it wasn’t some deal breaker that I’d have to do something drastic about. It’s adorable.

She’d kissed him, a little turned on by the softer side of him that really wasn’t. And that was that.

It didn’t really look like anything more than a wall hanging from a fake-cinnamon-smelling décor-and-knickknack shop. He’d had no choice but to laugh along. She’d thought it looked perfect there and John hadn’t been able to think of a way to make the case against her happy discovery without turning it into a topic of contention or, God forbid, further conversation.

To keep Roy from pissing his pants every time he came up against the next thing he couldn’t manage in his life, John had invented the emergency measure of the call system.

John designated three spots he’d always use at the Y or his office so that Roy could signal him, if he could just hold himself together long enough to find the car. He’d made it plain to Roy that he would actually, physically kill him if he ever attempted to contact him at home or on the telephone.

John had been convincing to an easily convinced moron, but he idly doubted that he’d be able to bring himself to really hurt Roy. It was useful to give him a scare every now and again, a little peek under the lid of John’s temper when plain words wouldn’t do. But John wasn’t a killer. Probably. Sometimes that was a relief and sometimes it was a speed bump.