“I . . . I don’t want to do this,” she says, her voice on the edge of breaking. “But I don’t know what else to do. Val usually bails me out on stuff, but she can’t today, and I’m halfway to West Virginia by now and—”

“Palmer, what’s going on? Cut to the chase. You’re starting to freak me out a little bit.”

“No. Don’t do that.” She sucks in a breath. “I got to the office today and found out that the auction in Parkersburg is today, not tomorrow, and Burt’s not here. Kirk’s wife’s appointment is also today, not tomorrow, so I’m not sure what the hell happened with the schedule, but all I do know is that I have to go to the auction, and Val is headed to Columbus because she thought—”

“Breathe.” I inhale and exhale loudly for her benefit. “This is going to be okay. What do you need from me?”

A long pause settles between us.

“Palmer?” I ask gently. “What do you need?”

“I don’t know,” she says as if she’s afraid to ask me for anything.

I replay what I know, what she just said, and try to grasp how I can fix the situation.

“I’ll tell you what,” I say, hoping this is the right answer. “I have nothing to do today. So why don’t I run by your house whenever Ethan gets off the bus, and we’ll throw some balls around. Maybe grab some dinner and hang out. Then you won’t have to rush.”

“Really?”

“If you aren’t comfortable with me at your house, I can take him to Mom’s. But if he comes home a spoiled little monster, that’s not on me.”

I glance at Mom. She’s grinning.

Palmer sighs. “Cole, are you sure? I feel absolutely shitty about even calling you with this, and I know this is one hundred percent not your responsibility, and I—”

“Stop.” I shake my head. “You didn’t ask me to do anything. I volunteered. But if you want to feel shitty about something, then feel that way about not just calling and asking me outright.”

I can hear her smile on the other end of the line. It makes me smile too.

“So, what time does Ethan get off the bus or need picking up or whatever?” I ask.

“He’ll get home around three thirty.”

“Cool. Is there anything I need to do or know? Homework? Picking up his room? Or would you rather me bring him to Mom’s?”

“I’ll check homework when I get home. I’m not asking you to do that.”

“Are you saying I’m incapable? Because I’m pretty sure that I beat you in every category that wasn’t pop culture.”

“Very funny.”

I laugh. “So, no homework. What else?”