was gone. Lucille never did manage to speak to him.

He finished his beef and waited. Soon Edith came in with the special
dessert she'd been preparing half the day--a magnificent English trifle.
She served him, and spooned out a portion for herself and Ralphie. She
hesitated near his chair, and when he made no comment she called the
boy. Then the three of them were sitting, facing the empty side of the
table. They ate the trifle. Ralphie finished first and got up and said,
"Hey, I promised--"

"You promised the boys you'd play baseball or football or handball or
something; anything to get away from your father."

Ralphie's head dropped and he muttered, "Aw, no, Dad."

Edith said, "He'll stay home, Hank. We'll spend an evening
together--talking, watching TV, playing Monopoly."

Ralphie said, "Gee, sure, Dad, if you want to."

Hank stood up. "The question is not whether I want to. You both know I
want to. The question is whether _you_ want to."

They answered together that of course they wanted to. But their
eyes--his wife's and son's eyes--could not meet his, and so he said he
was going to his room because he was, after all, very tired and would in
all probability continue to be very tired for a long, long time and that
they shouldn't count on him for normal social life.

He fell asleep quickly, lying there in his clothes.

But he didn't sleep long. Edith shook him and he opened his eyes to a
lighted room. "Phil and Rhona are here." He blinked at her. She smiled,
and it seemed her old smile. "They're so anxious to see you, Hank. I
could barely keep Phil from coming up and waking you himself. They want
to go out and do the town. Please, Hank, say you will."

He sat up. "Phil," he muttered. "Phil and Rhona." They'd had wonderful
times together, from grammar school on. Phil and Rhona, their oldest and
closest friends. Perhaps this would begin his real homecoming.

Do the town? They'd paint it and then tear it down!

* * * * *

It didn't turn out that way. He was disappointed; but then again, he'd
also expected it. This entire first day at home had conditioned him to
expect nothing good. They went to the bowling alleys, and Phil sounded
very much the way he always had--soft spoken and full of laughter and
full of jokes. He patted Edith on the head the way he always had, and
clapped Hank on the shoulder (but not the way he always had--so much
more gently, almost remotely), and insi