*You never told him you don't think he's good enough?'

*Nope. I never told him that. Probably never will. One, he never asked. And he probably never will. Two, he wouldn't never hear me anyway. He hears what he wants to hear, just like anybody else that wants something real bad. There's two things you can do with a kid like that. Way I see it. You can burst his bubble. Or you can wait and let life burst it. Let life do the dirty work for you. If you burst it he'll hate you for ever. And he'll never really believe he couldn't have made it. He'll always think it's your fault for standing in his way. For not having more faith in him. Now, life. When life bursts your bubble, well. It's a little harder to argue with life.'

*I see people argue with life all the time,' Nathan said.

*Betcha never see 'em win, though.'

Nathan breathed deeply and rose to his feet. He could feel the dampness of his shirt as he moved. It would be good to get back in the car and turn on the fan.

*Thank you, Manny. That was just the advice I needed.'

*Yeah, hey. Don't tell the kid I talked you out of backing him, huh?'

*You didn't talk me out of backing him. You talked me into it.' *I did? Huh. Well, what do you know?'

The little man accompanied Nathan to the top of the sweltering stairwell.

As he was walking down the stairs, he heard Little Manny call after him. *Hey. I bet you were the guy gave him those sweet gloves. That was you, wasn't it? That first time, I mean. Way back when.'

Nathan stopped and turned back. *Yes,' he said. *That was me.'

*Yeah. I knew it. I knew that kid didn't have two people in his life that would treat him so good.'

9 August 1979 Also Literally Terrible *What would you say if I asked you to choose?' Eleanor asked upon waking.

*Oh. That would be a terrible thing to ask of me.'

*Hypothetically.'

*It would even be hypothetically terrible.'

Nathan lay in bed with his hands interlocked behind his head. Thinking that the ceiling needed paint much more urgently that he had realized.

He knew better than to speak of paint out loud. He knew how it might be construed. As if he weren't listening to his wife, or didn't care. Or didn't find her dissatisfaction important and troubling.

In reality, it was quite the opposite. The more troubling an emotional situation became, the more Nathan found himself tempted to focus on the condition of the paint on the bedroom ceiling.

*That's what I thought,' she said.

*What's what you thought?'

*That there's no clear indication you would put me first. A wife needs to feel she comes first. Just the fact that you didn't answer right away says so much.'

*Are you sure you want me to answer the question at all?'

*I think so. I'll hate it, I know. But I guess it's time to hear it, anyway.'

*My grandfather had two brothers,' Nathan said. With very little pause. Very little preparation. It turned out he had been more prepared than he realized. *My two great-uncles. Christopher and Daniel. They got along very well when they were younger. But then they tried to go into business together. And it didn't go well. So they ended up feuding. And this was very hard for my grandfather, because he liked to have the whole family over for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Everybody thought it would be the hardest thing in the world to decide. But he had no trouble with it at all. He said, "Christopher can come to Thanksgiving. Daniel will have to stay home." Just like that. Everyone was shocked. But I think I might have been the only one to ask why. He said it was because Christopher was willing to share the day with Daniel, but Daniel wasn't willing to share the day with Christopher.

*Nat would never ask me to choose between the two of you, Eleanor. Not even hypothetically. He never had anything against you. Never said so much as a bad word about you. He tried so hard to make you like him. He tried so hard to coexist.'

Eleanor didn't answer. Then again, Nathan hadn't expected her to.

Part Six Nathan Bates 9 August 1979 Fragile *So, how long has that been sitting in your window?' Nat asked the tiny, elderly woman in the antique store.

*How long?' A thick accent, but he wasn't sure what kind. Russian or Polish, or whatever accent you have if you're from Yugoslavia or Romania or some such place as that. *What matters how long?'

*I'm just trying to figure out why I never saw it before. I run by here every day. Did you just put it in the window today?'

*No. Not today. Many days.'

*But I run by here every day. With my dog.' He pointed through the window to the spot where Feathers was sitting, tied to a parking meter.

*You just don't see,' the old woman said.

Nat gingerly set the little white, gold-edged china bud vase on the counter between them. As if it were a raw egg.

*Very fragile,' the old woman said.

*You're telling me.'

Nat examined it more closely under the light. His heart was pounding. He couldn't be sure it was exactly the same. Not from memory. Not unless he could actually hold the two side by side. And he didn't figure he ever could, because the broken one had disappeared. Whether it had been thrown away or just buried away, Nat didn't know. But it seemed clear that Eleanor did not care to look at it again.

What if it wasn't exactly the same? Just close? It seemed to him it would be close enough, anyway. It would fill the gaping hole left open in her bud vase department. Unless she had so completely memorized the look of the original one that she would only see the differences.

Besides, even if this was exactly the same, it still wasn't the same. It wasn't from her grandmother's house.

But it looked to be such a perfect twin. It was like some kind of resurrection. Like that mythical do-over you always want from life and never get. And everybody is so quick to assure you that you never will.

Trying to decide was literally giving him a headache.

*How much?'

*Seventeen dollar fifty cent.'

*Ouch.'

So far he'd only managed to earn twenty dollars doing odd jobs before and after his training. And every bit of that had gone into the ring fund. He was saving up to buy Carol a real ring.

*Would you hold it for me?'

*Only with deposit.'

Nat frowned.

*Will you hold it just till the end of today?'

*Yeah, yeah. All right. One day I hold.'

*I think you should cash out the ring fund,' Carol said.

They sat on the patio of the Frosty Freeze, sharing the burger that Carol was allowed to have for free on her lunch break. She had pushed all the fries over to his side of the white paper.

Nat could hear Feathers whimpering all the way from the stop sign on the corner, frustrated at always having to be tied up so far from French fries.

*I can't do that.'

*Why can't you?'

*It's not a piggy bank. That money is for one thing only. It goes in and it doesn't come out until we have enough for a ring.'

*Look. Nat. By the time you win your first fight you're only going to have about fifty dollars in the ring fund. But then, with your prize money, you can afford a whole ring and then some. So what was the point of the fifty dollars?'

*I guess. But I still feel funny doing it.'

*I'd rather have a ring you buy me with your first big prize money. Besides, I think doing something for Eleanor would be really important. She is so not happy.'

*Right,' Nat said. *I noticed that.'

He arrived home that afternoon at nearly five, carrying his precious little parcel.

Nathan should have been home by then. And Eleanor should have been making dinner in the kitchen. It was hard for Nat's brain to process the scene. What did it even mean, if it was nearly five o'clock and no food was being prepared?

The den door was closed, which it never was, not even when Nathan was in there reading.

Somehow the quiet in the house felt weirdly exaggerated. Not that Nat could ever have explained a to himself or anyone else a how one quiet could seem quieter than another. Still, this silence was different in a way he couldn't quite bring into focus.

*Eleanor?' he called.

A long enough pause to convince him that nobody was home. Had there been some kind of emergency?

Then, *I'm in the bedroom, Nat.'

Nat walked to Nathan and Eleanor's open bedroom doorway and stood with his shoulder leaning against the jamb.

She had a suitcase open on the bed, and was meticulously folding dresses and packing them. Two more suitcases sat on the rug near the window. He watched her in silence for a time, not knowing what question to ask first. She had been crying. That much was obvious just from her face. But he couldn't ask about that. Her emotions were surely none of his business.

*Are you going somewhere?'

She looked up at him and smiled sadly. *Yes. My son is coming to pick me up.'

*I didn't know you had a son.'

*Really? Didn't you, really? I guess we don't know each other all that well. Yes, I have a grown son.'

*How old is he?'

*Forty-one.'

A long silence.

Nat felt as though he were taking steps in shifting sand. He wanted to ask no more questions, but there were so many more at hand, just screaming to be asked. Where's Nathan? When are you coming back? Did somebody die? Should I feel any less scared than I already do?

*I brought you a present,' he said.

*Me?' she asked distractedly. As if she hadn't understood.

He crossed the room and handed her the box. The old woman in the antique store had wrapped the vase in cotton padding and placed it in a sturdy box for him. Because he had been afraid he couldn't get it home in one piece.

*I don't understand,' she said. *There's no occasion.'

*I know.'

*Thank you. That's very sweet. I'll take it with me.'

*No, open it,' Nat said. *Open it now.'

He couldn't imagine spending so much money and making such a difficult decision only to miss the look on her face, that priceless evidence of how his gift had been received.

*Well. All right. If you think that's best.'

She took the lid off the box, moved the cotton padding aside, and burst into tears.

*I'm sorry,' Nat said. *I didn't mean for it to make you cry. Is it exactly like the other one? Or is it just close?'

He wished he had a handkerchief, or even a tissue to offer her. He also wished he were somewhere else. It was hard for him to hold still while someone cried.

*It's a very close relative,' she said, her voice breaking. She turned it over and examined its bottom. *It's made by the same manufacturer, and it's the same design. It's just a slightly smaller one.'

*Do you like it?'

Before she could answer, they heard a car horn honk in the driveway.

*Oh,' she said. *My son is here. I have to go.'

*When are you coming back?'

She turned her back to him and hurried to the bed, where she tucked the little vase safely between dresses, and snapped the last suitcase shut. Her back still to him, she said, *You might want to ask Nathan about that.'

*Where is Nathan?'

*In the den, I think.'

*I'll help you carry your bags,' he said.

Just as he was lifting them off the rug, straightening himself with a heavy bag in each hand, he looked up to see Eleanor suddenly right in front of him. Not even a step away. He tried to hide the fact that her closeness alarmed him. He held very still.

She reached out and held his head in both of her hands, then leaned in and gave him a firm kiss on the forehead. Her lips felt dry and cool.