“I can't even get her to leave the house, except to go to work,” Pam complained. She was worried about her. But she had been doing the same thing herself for the last two years since Mike had died.

“You both need to go out more. Why don't you let Charlie and me baby-sit for you sometime?” Alice wasn't entirely sure Charlotte would be pleased with the idea, but it would be nice to do something for them for a change.

The two women chatted for a while, and Bobby sat quietly watching the other kids. He didn't join in, and they didn't ask him to, although several of them were close to his age. But it was as though he weren't there. He was completely removed and withdrawn, and he seemed almost invisible to them as he watched everything they did. And as Alice turned at the sound of a particularly large crash from the living room, she saw Johnny following Becky up the stairs. Alice stared at him, startled to see him there, and when Becky came back to check on dinner again a few minutes later, he stood next to her at the stove. She was entirely unaware of him, as Alice struggled to listen to what Pam had just said. It was something about a man she'd met at work. But for the life of her, Alice couldn't remember what she'd said to her. Her eyes were riveted on Johnny, watching Becky butter the corn on the cob she'd made, and he turned to face his mother with a wave and a grin, as she smiled at him.

And when the Adams clan sat down to dinner a few minutes later, she and Bobby left. He went upstairs as soon as they got home, and Johnny was waiting for her at the kitchen table, smiling at her. She waited until she heard Bobby's door close, and then scolded him.

“What were you doing over there?”

“The same thing you were, Mom. Just visiting. God, Becky looks great.”

“It was so weird watching you next to her. I couldn't even hear what Pam was saying to me.” She still looked flustered as she thought about it, and Johnny laughed at her.

“I know. You should have seen the look on your face.”

“They must have thought I was nuts. But not as nuts as if someone hears me talking to you. We have to be careful,” she said, warning him, but he looked unconcerned.

“Sure, Mom, I know,” he said, sounding like the seventeen-year-old he was. And a minute later, he bounded up the stairs and went off in the direction of Bobby's room. Alice was enjoying it, but it was certainly odd having him back in the house. And when Charlotte walked in after basketball practice, she gave her mother a strange look.

“How was your day?” Alice asked her, as she always did. The aura of normalcy she was trying to maintain was beginning to feel like a wig that had slipped.

“Okay,” Charlotte answered, scrutinizing her, and then she finally decided to tell her mother what she'd heard. “Julie Hernandez's mom said she saw you in the car, talking to yourself, and laughing today. Mom, are you okay?” Charlie was beginning to wonder if the medication for her stomach was making her mom weird. She had heard her talk to herself the other night too, and her mom had said she'd been on the phone, but for some reason Charlotte didn't believe her.

“I'm fine. I was talking to Bobby. He was lying on the backseat,” Alice explained.

“She said you looked like you were on your way to school.”

“I think she was confused,” Alice said comfortably as Charlotte shrugged her shoulders, only partially convinced. Her mom was definitely not herself these days. She was happier than she'd been in months, and looked almost guilty at times, as though she had done something she shouldn't have. And for a terrified instant, Charlotte couldn't help wondering if her mom had started drinking too. “How was your game?” Alice asked, as though nothing had been said.

“Okay, I guess. We won.”

“You don't sound too excited about it,” Alice said, focusing on her. Charlotte asked for so little from her, and she had been obscured at times by her brothers, the one such a hero, so much a star, and the other with his special needs. It was easy to lose track of Charlotte in the midst of it, and Alice was acutely aware of how unfair that was. She did her best to compensate for it, but lately Charlotte seemed to be avoiding everyone, and she was unusually withdrawn, even from her.

“I'm not excited about it,” Charlotte said with a shrug, and then disappeared to use the phone.

Alice got dinner going then, and eventually Jim came home. They went through the usual rituals, and as always now, dinner was a joyless meal, and went too fast. All any of them wanted to do was eat and run, and go to their own rooms. Jim parked himself in front of the TV afterward, and after she'd put the dishes away, Alice stopped for a minute to talk to him before she went upstairs to lie down on their bed. It had been a long day for her.

“Is everything all right at work?” she asked, as she sat down next to him on the couch.

“Fine,” he said, without turning his eyes or his attention to her. “How do you feel?”

“Great.” It was hard to believe that only a few days before she'd been so sick.

“Don't forget to take your medicine,” he said, glancing at her, and she was touched by his concern. It was so rare that they talked now. They had been best friends once, and very much in love when they first married, but then things had never quite panned out for him, his business had never really gotten off the ground, and he had started drinking, not too much at first, but just enough to make a difference. And then he'd had the accident, and everything had changed after that. He had shut himself away in a place where Alice couldn't reach him anymore. But as he looked at her tonight, for just a fraction of a second, she saw the shadow of the man she still remembered and had always loved. “I'm glad you're feeling better. You really scared me. I couldn't…” He started to say something and then stopped himself. “We've had enough bad luck around here,” he said gruffly, and then turned away to concentrate on the TV again, and before she could even answer him, he had dismissed her and disappeared.

“Thanks, Jim,” she said, leaning over to kiss his cheek, but he pretended not to notice and didn't respond. He got up to get himself another beer, and left her sitting there. And he lingered in the kitchen just long enough for her to finally give up, and go upstairs, thinking about him.

She checked on both children, and they seemed fine. Bobby was throwing a ball against the wall in his room, and Charlotte was doing her homework. And as Alice walked back to her own room, she heard a sound in Johnny's room. She opened the door quietly, and saw him standing there in the moonlight, smiling at her. He had put on his beloved varsity jacket, as she walked in and closed the door softly behind her.

“What are you doing in here?” she whispered. Neither of them dared to turn the light on, for fear that someone would see.

“I'm just going through some stuff. I found some great pictures of Becky from last summer when she went to the lake with us.”

“I see you found your jacket.” He had grown so much in the last four years he had nearly outgrown it, but he loved it so much he didn't care even if the sleeves were a little short, and the shoulders tighter than they had been. “Why don't you go through that stuff tomorrow? Someone is going to hear you in here.”

“I'll bet no one ever comes in here.”

“I do,” she said sadly, looking around the room and then at him. It was so good to see him back in it.

“How come you didn't put any of it away? I was afraid it would all be gone, or packed up in boxes somewhere.”

“I couldn't do that,” she said as her eyes held his.

“Maybe you should,” he said sensibly. “It's kind of sad seeing it all sitting here like this … even though I'm glad you left it for me.” She smiled at what he said, sat down on the bed, and looked up at him.

“I never thought you'd be back here. But how could I take apart this room? It would be like losing more of you than we already had.”

“The room isn't me, Mom. You have me here,” he said, pointing at his heart, “and you always will. You know that.” He sat down next to her on the bed and put an arm around her. “I'm not going anywhere, even after I go back again. I'll always be here with you.”

“I know. But I love all this stuff … your pictures … your trophies.” The room still smelled of him, even more so now that he was sitting beside her. He had a fresh clean smell, of soap and boy and aftershave, that always made her think of him, and lingered in the room.

They sat there talking for a while, and eventually he went back to her bedroom with her, and the room was so warm he took his jacket off and dropped it on a chair, as they went on talking. Charlotte came in once, and looked at her oddly. She'd heard her mother talking again, and was beginning to wonder about her. She wanted to borrow a sweater to wear to assembly the next day, and Johnny scolded his mother when she left them and went back to her room.

“You shouldn't let her wear your stuff, Mom. All she wants to do is show off for the boys in her class, and the upperclassmen. Let her wear her own stuff.”

“She's only got one mother. And I only have one daughter, Johnny. It's okay for her to borrow my ‘stuff,’ as long as she returns it.”

“And does she?” He raised a cynical eyebrow at his mother, and she laughed, and looked at him sheepishly.

“Not always.”

“Be careful if she borrows my varsity jacket. I don't want her to lose it.” They had already agreed that it would go to Bobby eventually.

And after a while, he went back to his own room, to look around again, and she was putting on her nightgown when Jim came upstairs, and he looked startled, and frowned, when he saw Johnny's varsity jacket on the chair where he had left it.