“Fine. Still don’t know why I’m here.”

It felt as though a brace around Theo’s thorax had been loosened, and he could breathe again. “Yes, you do, Pop. The denial thing won’t work anymore, it’s been fifteen years.”

Samuel smiled. “You shouldn’t have come. Madelaine was wrong to bother you.”

“It’s not bothering me, I wanted to come. Where is Mom, anyway?”

“She sleeps at home then comes back when visiting starts. She’ll be here soon.”

“How are you, really?”

“Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

“Feels like someone laid me down on Madison and drove a truck over me!”

“That good, huh?”

“Yep. Don’t tell your mother, though,” Samuel added quickly, trying to haul himself up.

“Here . . . let me.” Theo gripped him by the elbow and shifted the pillow further behind him while he shuffled carefully until he was sitting.

“So, what have they said to you?” Theo had an idea of what the doctors had said about his condition from his mother’s hurried phone call, and he wanted to see if they’d shared the same information with him.

“They said what they always say: ‘Samuel, lose weight. Get more exercise.’ ”

“Sure, but that’s not why you’re here. What did they say about the ketoacidosis?”

“Oh, that—trust Madelaine . . . I told her not to tell you. You’re not to get involved, Theo. You’ve been here two minutes and look, you’re already trying to take over. How did Walter ever let you go, or those London people? Tell me about London.”

Theo was overjoyed and confused; the phone call had made out that his father’s condition was dire, but Samuel didn’t look like a man clinging to life. What was going on?

“Stop trying to change the subject, Pop. I want to know what the doctors said. How serious is this?”

“I’m in the right place, son, that’s all that matters right now,” he said, his tone more somber. “Sit down, will you?”

“Okay.”

“Look, I know there have been some serious complications, but thankfully I’m recovering now. Your mother doesn’t need to know about them, so it’s best we just keep that between us.”

Why did his father have to put a spin on things no matter what? “The truth, Pop, the truth.”

“All right! I’ve been lucky, I grant you.” He held his hands out in front of him, steady palms facing outward. “See, most of the symptoms have gone . . . and once the infection is under control, I’ll be laughing.”