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“Do you think he will?”

“No.”

“How do you know?”

“I do not.”

“But you still think he’ll stay.”

“I believe he wants to.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“No.”

“Dad wanted to stay once.”

“Yes. I think he did.”

“And you were wrong.”

“Yes. So was he.”

“Does that scare you?”

“Yes.”

“Now?”

I look at Colt’s mug by the sink.

“A little.”

Tova nods and pulls the book back toward herself.

She has multiplied before handling the parentheses.

I point.

“You skipped this.”

“I was thinking.”

“So was I. Somehow I still remember the order of operations.”

“That’s because you’re old.”

“I am not old.”

“Kind of.”

Tova erases the scribble in the margin and fixes the equation.

I get up and put the last plate in the cabinet.

“If Colt did leave, would you tell me the truth?”

I turn.