*So he didn't tell you he was having surgery, either.'

*No.'

Thank God, Nat thought. That would have been just about the final insult in all of this. If everyone had known except him.

Unable to add the whole Carol issue to the weight he already carried, he simply walked around her and tried to be gone.

*I have to call a cab,' he said over his shoulder. *Nathan wants to go home.'

*I could drive you,' she said.

Nat stopped. He did not immediately answer. He closed his eyes, as if he could transport himself to someplace easier. But when he opened them again, he was still in the hospital. And Carol was still standing in the hall staring at him.

*You have a car, now?'

*Yes. I do. I got my license. And I got a better job and I bought a second-hand Toyota.'

*You know . . . a cab'll be fine. He asked me to call a cab.'

*You want me to go ask him? If he'd rather have a ride?'

Nat inwardly sighed, and gave it all up for lost. Sometimes it's easier to fall deeply into the worst day imaginable. At least save yourself the trouble of trying to fight.

*I guess it should be up to Nathan,' he said. *I'll go with whatever Nathan says.'

*Where's Carol?' Nathan asked. *Did she go home?'

*No. She's in the kitchen making dinner.'

Nat sat on one of the straight-backed wooden chairs by Nathan's bed. Sitting on his hands, quite literally. Leaning forward and watching Nathan as if he might be about to blow away. He'd never spent any time in Nathan's bedroom, and it felt awkward to be here now.

Nathan did not reply. And the silence made Nat nervous.

So he said, *Scrambled eggs, most likely.'

*Oh, I doubt it,' Nathan said. *Carol is a wonderful cook.' Nat cocked an eyebrow but said nothing. *She had me over to dinner just before the holidays.'

*I thought she only knew how to make scrambled eggs.'

*That was a long time ago, Nat.'

*Thanks for reminding me.'

*I'm sorry. I didn't mean it the way it came out.'

Nat rocked back and forth slightly on his hands. Not knowing what to say. Or what to feel. Or where to be. This didn't feel like the place to be, but he was oddly sure that moving wouldn't fix it.

*Tell me,' Nathan said, startling him. *Are you sitting there out of complete devotion to me, and utter shock that it's come time for me to get my affairs in order? Or are you hiding out here to avoid seeing Carol?'

*Yes,' Nat said.

They both smiled, which Nat suspected came as a surprise to both of them. It certainly surprised Nat.

*Why don't you go out and help her with dinner?'

*Because it scares the crap out of me.'

*Fear of cooking?'

*Very funny. Talking to her. Looking at her. Being in the same room with her. It all scares the crap out of me.'

*What would you say to her if she didn't scare the . . . crap out of you?'

*Nathan. You said crap!' Nat announced this almost proudly.

*I'm definitely feeling a lifting of the rules. But you're ducking the question.'

*Oh. Right. I guess I would say I was an idiot. And that I'm really, seriously sorry. Even though sorry probably doesn't help at all.'

*Sounds like a good start.'

*You want me to start with that?'

*What if you never see her again? You might not have much time.'

Nat sighed. Rose, and pushed the chair back into the corner.

*OK. Wish me luck. I'm going in.'

*Nathan thinks I should help you with dinner.'

Nat stood with his shoulder leaned against the kitchen door jamb. As if crossing the threshold might prove too dangerous.

*I don't really need help, actually. It's all under control. But thank you.' A split second before Nat could slink away in utter defeat, she said, *You can keep me company while I cook, if you like.'

So he didn't slink away. But neither did he cross the dangerous threshold.

Say it, he thought. Just open your mouth and say it.

*Carol,' he said, because he thought after saying that much he'd be obligated to finish.

*Yes, Nat?'

She turned away from the stove and stood facing him. Put down her wooden spoon on the Coney Island spoon-rest on the stove, and pushed back a wisp of hair that had come down from its barrette. She looked right into his face, freezing everything. Even time.

*Thanks for making dinner,' he said.

*It's no problem. I want to do something for Nathan. I can't believe this. Oh, that's a stupid thing to say, I guess. I mean, he's almost seventy-nine. I don't see why I should be shocked. But I guess I still am. Are you going to take care of him all by yourself? Or are you going to have a nurse or a hospice person come in?'

Nat tried to force his brain into some kind of action, but he still felt as though she'd asked him to solve a complex algebra equation.

*I don't know. We haven't really worked out a plan. I'll have to see what Nathan wants to do.'

*Would you like me to stay?'

A shocked silence, one that was probably fairly short, but felt endless and impenetrable to Nat. He offered no response. Because he had none. He had nothing.

*I'd have to go to work on the weekdays. But I could make breakfast and dinner. And run errands in my car. And maybe just help out if you got tired and needed a rest. I could sleep in the den. Or on the couch.'

*No, you can sleep in the bed. I'm going to sleep in Nathan's room. On the floor, or whatever. In case he needs anything in the night.'

*It's all set, then. Will you tell him I'll bring his dinner in twenty minutes?'

Say it, he thought. Say something. Say anything. Open your mouth and speak.

*Carol?'

*Yes, Nat?'

*Thanks.'

*I think I'll have to start someplace easier. Oh, and dinner's coming in twenty minutes.'

Nathan set down the book he had been reading. The biography of one of those old political guys from colonial times, but Nat couldn't read the name from across the room and didn't recognize the picture. Nathan took off his reading glasses. Sighed. Shook his head.

*You might have just forfeited your last chance to apologize.'

*I doubt it,' Nat said. *She's staying.'

4 January 1990 Exceptions *All of this is such a shock to me,' Nat said. *I just can't seem to get my head around it all.'

He lay on a rollaway cot in Nathan's room, wondering what time it was. Not dawn. That's all he knew for sure. That and the fact that Nathan was also awake.

*I'm going to be seventy-nine years old, Nat. If I make it until the fourth of next month, that is. I was born in 1911. People born in 1911 have average lifespans of less than seventy-nine years.'

*Yeah, all right. But I'm not talking about stuff like that, anyway. I'm talking about shock. Shock doesn't live in the part of your brain that does math. You know?'

Nat noticed that they spoke more easily in the dark. Maybe he should try this with everybody. Maybe he should turn out the lights and tell Carol he was an idiot and he was sorry.

*You must have known I'd have to die someday.'

*Not really, no.' Then he realized how stupid it must have sounded. *I'm not saying I thought you never would. Just that I never thought about it. No. You know what? That's not really the truth. The truth is, I really thought you never would. I mean, not literally, but . . . I know everybody dies. I just think there was this weird little part of me that sort of . . . not literally, but . . . I thought you'd be the exception to the rule.'

*I'm sorry I can't be immortal for you.'

*That makes two of us,' Nat said.

15 January 1990 Cake *Carol had to leave for work early this morning, Nathan.' Nat sat on the edge of his little cot, pulling off his pajama top and pulling on a sweatshirt. He reflexively turned his back to Nathan because he was ashamed of his chest. Its lack of any noticeable development. *So I'll be making breakfast. What would you like?'

*I know Carol prides herself on always doing something fancy. But lately I've had a taste for Cream of Wheat.'

*Good. Because fancy is not my department. And Cream of Wheat has directions on the box.' Nat stood, and pulled sweatpants on over his boxer shorts. *Do you need me to bring you the bed pan before I go?'

*No, thank you. After breakfast will be fine.'

*OK. One Cream of Wheat. Coming up.'

*With a little butter, please. And some milk.'

*Check.'

Just as Nat was leaving the room, Nathan said, *Nat?' Nat turned back and leaned in the open doorway, waiting. *Make that a lot of butter. And cream. It just suddenly hit me. I can stop watching my weight now.'

*I'll go along with that,' Nat said. Trying to sound bright. Trying to cover the mood crash that hit him every time he had to be reminded. *Oh. I've been meaning to ask you. What's your favorite kind of cake, Nathan?'

*For breakfast?'

*In general.'

*Hmm.' He gingerly sat up a little more in bed, propping an extra feather pillow behind his back. *I'd say lemon cake.'

*Really? Lemon?'

*What's wrong with lemon?'

*I don't know. Nothing, I guess. But I'd never have thought lemon. If it were me I'd have gone with something like chocolate with chocolate frosting. Or even German chocolate.'

*We're all different. That's the beauty of diversity. Why are you asking me about cake?'

*Carol wants to make you a cake for your birthday.'

*Tell her not to buy the ingredients just yet.'

*I wish you wouldn't say things like that, Nathan. It's only, like, three weeks from now.'

*You're right. I apologize.'

*I'll go make some Cream of Wheat.'

19 January 1990 Stories *I need another sponge bath,' Nathan said.

*No problem.'

*If you have a hard time with things like this, we could get a nurse to come in for a few hours a week.'

*Stop it, Nathan. I said I'd take care of you. And I'm taking care of you.'

*I'm just thinking it might get harder. In certain ways. When things like this come up.'