I hung up and slid the silver keychain back into my pocket, the weight of it settling against my thigh.
When I walked back into the living room, Tommy had moved to the center of the rug. He was trying to lower himself onto his side, bending his knees with an awkward, hitching motion that looked like an old man trying to navigate ice.
He got down to one knee, his teeth clenched so hard I could see the muscles in his jaw trembling.
“Tommy, stop,” I said. “Do not force it.”
He ignored me, slowly sliding his hip onto the carpet and letting his shoulder rest against the floor. He lay there on his side, his knees pulled slightly toward his chest, his hands still tucked under his chin.
I knelt beside him on the carpet, keeping my hands on my own knees so I would not frighten him.
A single tear rolled down his temple and vanished into his brown hair, followed by another. He did not sob, and his chest did not heave. He lay perfectly still, letting the silent tears wet the fabric of his sleeve.
