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grandmother was watching Collie and his mother that she was thinking about how quickly things could turn from good to bad. I would bet she was reminding herself of how precious every peaceful moment was, which is what she told me after my father died. She said that we had to savor whatever time we had in this world and believe in the ultimate goodness of the universe, but I had never been much of a believer. If anything, I believed that things got worse before they got better. I believed good people suffered. I believed I had lost my father, and I didn’t really care much about the goodness of the universe without him in it. never said any of this to my grandmother. I would never do that. People who have faith were so lucky, you didn’t want to ruin anything for them. You didn’t want to plant doubt where there was none. You had to treat such individuals tenderly and hope that some of whatever they were feeling rubs off on you.
    My grandmother asked if there was anything she might do to help. Considering the fact that Jorie had brought dinner over for us for two weeks straight last summer, there had to be something we could do to return the favor, for this was clearly her time of need. But Jorie shook her head; there was nothing. The sky was turning murky by then, a marine blue dipping into darkness around the edges. You could smell cut grass and heat even now. Tomorrow, the town pool would be opening, and Collie and I had plans to get there early, but I could tell we wouldn’t be going. There would be races and diving contests, the way there always were on opening day, but it wouldn’t matter. Not to us.
    â€œDon’t listen to anything anyone tells you,” Jorie told Collie. She sounded fierce when she spoke to him. “Do you hear me?”
    â€œYes, ma’am,” Collie said.
    Some other boy might have started asking questions, but Collie wasn’t like that. He had a serious look on his face, and you could tell he’d do exactly as his mother said.
    â€œEverything will be fine,” Jorie assured him.
    But from the way she was standing in the doorway in that deepening night, it was clear she wasn’t sure of that herself; she was just trying to sound like she was.
    â€œAt least come in for dinner.” My grandmother reached to draw Collie’s mother inside our house, but Jorie took a step back. She didn’t want to be touched and she didn’t want anyone to be kind to her. She was filling herself up with ice, and when a person starts doing that any human contact can be dangerous.
    â€œWe just want to be alone.” Jorie’s voice was ragged and her mouth looked sour. She was usually so nice to everyone. She brought my grandmother vegetables from her garden, armfuls of lettuce and snap peas so fresh Rosarie and I argued over who would get the larger portion. As soon as these rude words were out of Jorie’s mouth, you could tell she was sorry She stepped forward and put her arms around my grandmother. “I didn’t mean that. I’m not myself,” she told us both, and we nodded as if we understood, then watched as she and Collie walked across Mrs. Gage’s lawn to their own house, where all the lights were off and all the windows had been left open.
    My grandmother and I went out to the porch and stood there in the dark. I could tell we both felt like crying, but for different reasons. One by one the lights turned on in Collie’s house, but I already knew: his father wasn’t there. They’d come to take him away while we were at school, and maybe that was for the best. Maybe it’s better not to be at home when such things happened. Close your eyes and count to ten whenever sorrow strikes you, that’s what my grandmother recommends, although in my opinion even ten thousand isn’t a high enough number. But tonight, my grandmother didn’t offer any advice. She only circled her arm around me, and she didn’t even