After the orderly had made sure Tolliver was settled and comfortable, he left with that quick, quiet walk hospital staff members seem to acquire as part of their job description. Tolliver had had another X-ray to check on his clavicle, he told me, and a neurologist had come in to verify that there hadn’t been any nerve damage to the shoulder.

“Have you seen Dr. Spradling today?” I asked.

“Yeah, he came by earlier. He said everything looked okay. I kind of expected you an hour ago.” Tolliver had completely forgotten that I’d told him I was going to stop by the police station.

I told him about the film I’d seen, how the woman differed from Cameron.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I was ready for it to be someone else, but I guess I’ve always got a little bit of hope.” That was exactly how I felt.

“It wasn’t, and I’m only wondering why someone thought it was her. I mean, who called the police? Who got Pete to look at the tapes? And this woman was close enough in appearance to Cameron to at least make Pete feel I should see the video. Was the anonymous caller someone who went to high school with Cameron and me, someone who was genuinely mistaken? Or was he some creep who just wanted to jerk us around?”

“And why now?” Tolliver said. He looked at me. I didn’t have an answer.

“I hardly see how this could have anything to do with Rich Joyce and his caregiver,” I said. “But the timing is really suspicious, huh?”

We couldn’t think of anything else to say about this strange grouping of events. After a while, I found Tolliver’s comb in a pocket of his jeans, which were hanging in the closet. They were a little stained. His shirt had been cut off of him. I reminded myself to bring another one to the hospital for the day he was released.

When I began to comb his hair, I found it was dirty, of course, and I tried to think of a way to wash it. With some improvisation, including a clean bedpan, an extra pad that they’d brought in case his shoulder leaked, and the little bottle of shampoo included in his admissions package, I managed. I also helped him shave and brush his teeth, and then I gave him a sponge bath, which turned unexpectedly bawdy.

He was very relaxed and sleepy-and happy-by the time that was over, and he said he felt much better. I combed his damp, dark hair and kissed his smooth cheek. He was going through a clean-shaven phase.

A nurse came in to give him his bath right after I finished, and she shrugged when I told her it was done.

Time in a hospital inevitably drags. Before I had a chance to tell Tolliver about Victoria ’s phone call, he fell asleep. I hated to wake him when the long day stretched in front of us. I napped myself. I struggled awake when Tolliver’s lunch tray came at eleven thirty.

That was another exciting break. I cut up all his food-well, the little that required cutting-and put a straw in his drink for him so that he could eat one-handed. He was so happy to be getting real food instead of liquid that even hospital food was welcome, and he managed pretty well. When I was sure he’d had as much as he wanted, I rolled the table away and handed him the TV remote. I needed to go in search of food myself.

“You don’t have to sit here all afternoon, you know,” Tolliver said.

“After I eat, I’ll spend the afternoon with you,” I said in a tone that told him not to argue. “Then I’m meeting Victoria for supper. I probably won’t come back after that.”

“Good. You don’t need to be cooped up all day. You’ll probably want to have a run or try the hotel’s weight room or something.”

He was right about that. I’m used to sitting still for long periods, because we’re in the car so much, but I’m also used to getting exercise every day, and my muscles were stiff.

I got a salad at a fast-food place, enjoying the bustle and purpose of the people in the restaurant. It felt odd to be alone, though I didn’t mind so much after I watched (and listened to) a mother dealing with three preschool-age children at the next table. I wondered if Tolliver wanted to have children. I didn’t. I’d already had the care of two babies, my little sisters, and I didn’t want to go through that again. And I admitted to myself that while I didn’t want to be pushed out of my sisters’ lives, I didn’t want to be in charge of those lives, either.

Even after I saw the youngest boy give his mother a spontaneous hug and kiss, I didn’t warm up to the concept of carrying someone else inside my body. Should I feel guilty about that? Didn’t every woman want to have her own child to love?

Not necessarily, I thought. And God knows there are plenty of children in the world. I don’t need to supply another one.

Tolliver was awake and watching a basketball game when I walked into his room. “Mark called while you were gone,” he said.

“Oh, gosh, could you reach the phone?”

“It was my big adventure for the day.”

“What did he have to say?”

“Oh, that I’d made my dad feel bad, that he thought I was being an idiot for not welcoming Dad back to the land of the sober, with my arms open wide.”

I debated with myself for a minute before deciding to say what I thought. “Mark has a real weakness for your dad, Tolliver. You know I love Mark, and I think he’s a great guy, but he won’t ever really get it, about Matthew.”

“Yeah,” Tolliver said. “You’re right. He was nuts about Mom, and when she died, he kind of transferred that emotion to our dad.”

Tolliver didn’t talk about his mother a lot. Her death, from cancer, had to have been completely awful.

“I think Mark believes that Dad has to be good at heart,” Tolliver said slowly. “Because if Dad isn’t good, then he’s lost his last parent. And he has to have that relationship.”

“Do you think your dad is good at heart?”

Tolliver really thought about his answer. “I hope he’s got some good left in him,” Tolliver said. “But honestly, I don’t think he’ll stay sober, if he’s really sober now. He’s lied about it before, over and over. He always goes back to the drugs, and you remember that at his worst he’d take whatever anyone offered him. Now, I’m sure he must have been in a lot of emotional pain to need so many drugs to kill it, you know? But he abandoned us to whoever wanted to prey on us, because he had to drug himself. No, I can’t trust him,” Tolliver said. “And I hope I never do, because I’ll be disappointed all over again.”

“That was exactly the way I felt about my mother,” I said, understanding completely.

“Yeah, Laurel was a piece of work,” Tolliver said. “You know she tried to hit on Mark and me?”

I thought I might throw up the food I’d just eaten. “No,” I said, my voice strangled.

“Yeah. Cameron knew about it. She came in on the, ah, critical moment. I thought Mark was going to die of embarrassment, and I had no idea what to do.”

“So what happened?” I felt a deep and burning shame. I told myself it was none of my concern, but it’s hard to believe that when you hear a story about your own flesh and blood that makes you sick to your stomach.

“Well, Cameron dragged her mom into the bedroom and made her put some clothes on,” Tolliver said. “I don’t think Laurel knew where she was or who she was coming on to, Harper, if it makes a difference. Cameron slapped your mom a few times.”

“Jeez,” I said. Sometimes there are no words.

“We’re out of it,” Tolliver said, as if he was trying to convince himself.

“Yes,” I said, “we are. And we have each other.”

“It can’t touch us anymore.”

“No,” I said, lying through my teeth. “It can’t.”