Lilly refused to look at the clock as she moved away from the window. The Calebows had finally managed to corner Kevin and Molly, but she couldn’t imagine that the confrontation had been productive. Her son and his wife didn’t seem to know what they wanted from their relationship, so she doubted they could explain it to her family.

Lilly had liked the Calebows immediately, and their presence these last five days had helped lift her heavy heart. They obviously loved Molly and, just as obviously, saw Kevin as a threat, but Lilly was beginning to suspect that Kevin was as big a danger to himself as he was to Molly.

Nine-thirty … She headed for the armchair in the corner where she’d left her quilting but picked up a magazine instead. She hadn’t been able to work on her quilt since Sunday, when Liam had issued his ultimatum. And now it was Thursday.

Come to my house on Thursday evening.… If you don’t show up, I won’t come looking for you.

She tried to build up some resentment against him, but it didn’t work. She understood exactly why he’d done it, and she couldn’t blame him. They were both too old to play games.

9:34 … She thought about Kevin taking over the bedroom downstairs. She liked falling asleep knowing they were under the same roof. When they passed each other in the hallways, they smiled and made small talk. At one time that would have been more than she could have hoped for. Now, it wasn’t enough.

9:35 … She concentrated on flipping through her magazine, then gave up and paced the floor. What good were life lessons if you didn’t pay attention to them?

At ten-thirty, she forced herself to get undressed and put on her nightgown. She got into bed and stared at the pages of a book she’d been enjoying only a week earlier. Now she couldn’t remember anything about it. Liam, I miss you so … He was the most remarkable man she’d ever met, but Craig had been remarkable, too, and he’d made her miserable.

As she reached across the bed and turned off the light, her world had never seemed smaller or her bed lonelier.

Eddie Dillard was big, genial, and coarse, the kind of man who wore a gold chain, burped, scratched his crotch, carried a wad of bills held together with a big money clip, and said …

“You duh man, Kev. Isn’t he, Larry? Isn’t Kev here the man?”

Oh, yes, Larry agreed, Kev was definitely the man.