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the kitchen, pours a cup of coffee, and carefully wipes up the drops that spill and the bits of grounds around the pot. Then he takes a paper towel and rubs the surface of the coffeemaker, removing a ­couple of smudges. He takes the coffee into the living room and turns on the TV. ESPN SportsCenter . He’s not a big sports fan, of any kind. But he lives in a world where it seems everyone is a sports fan. So he watches ESPN and tries to remember things. The Steelers are the most important. They’re going to make the play-­offs. And the Patriots, too. The Jets and the Giants don’t have a chance. He can use that when he finally gets back to the office.
    There’s a stack of Law and Order magazines on the coffee table. He studies these, too. It’s a continuation of his AA in criminal justice. He sorts them by date, then restacks them on the coffee table, newest issues on top.
    When his coffee cup is empty, he takes it back to the kitchen, rinses it, washes and dries it, and puts it back in the cupboard. There are four mugs there, in different but complementing colors. He keeps them in a line, each handle just touching the mug to its right. Then he pushes the coffeemaker back on the counter and aligns it with the toaster. He reaches into the cabinet under the sink and takes a bottle of 409 and a sponge and washes the counter and the sink, working on the faucets and handles. Because they are old and scratched, he pays particular attention, bringing up a shine where there is still chrome plating left. Then he takes the 409 and heads into the bathroom and goes to work on the shower, sink, and toilet. Later he will sweep and mop the floors. He does this every day. It will take him two hours, which means he will be done by eleven. It is going to be a long five days.
    When he comes back into the bedroom, he sees the boots he had set aside. He gets his polishing kit from the closet, carries it and the boots into the kitchen, where he unlaces the boots. He pours a bowl of water from the faucet, takes a rag, wets it, and begins wiping the shoes to get off the dust and mud. Then he takes another rag, coats it with saddle soap, and scrubs each boot to get the grit and salt off. When that’s done, he opens a can of polish, sets a match to it, and lets it burn for a few seconds before he puts the lid back on and douses the flame. Then he takes a cloth, dips it in the now liquid polish, and begins rubbing it into the leather. That done, he buffs the boots, then starts the process over again. He does this until he has five coats of polish buffed to a high shine. He washes the bootlaces in the sink and drapes them over the kitchen faucet to dry. He has used up forty-­eight minutes.
    He checks his phone. Two calls from Nessa, one from his father. He swipes the screen and turns the phone off, puts it in his back pocket, then pulls it out again and dials Nessa’s number. He wants and dreads to talk with her. It rings twice and goes to voice mail. She’s in class. “Hi,” he says. “It’s me. I’m home. I have the day off. Give me a call. I guess you heard what happened. I’m OK. Give me a call.”
    He’s trying to repair his pants, but he has no skill with a needle and thread. He will have to take them to the dry cleaner’s, who will send them to a tailor in Warrentown. Or buy a new pair. The shirt has to go to the cleaner’s as well. Buying a new uniform will take more money than he should be spending right now. He lays out the torn uniform for the dry cleaner’s.
    When the phone rings he answers it immediately, expecting Nessa. He’s surprised when he hears his father’s voice.
    â€œAre you all right?”
    â€œYeah. I’m fine. A little road rash, nothing more.”
    â€œThat’s good. I was worried when I got your call. I had heard there was an accident, but I didn’t hear any details.”
    Ronny is relieved to hear his father sounding