But on Saturday afternoon, he realized that Carly simply assumed that he would be accompanying her. It was strange to think that the Martins were expecting him, as if he really had been summarily adopted into their clan. But believing that would be deluding himself. The Martins were nice people, and charitable with their friendship. Thirty years ago, he had needed a family like theirs. But now? No. He was an adult, not a stray kid, and it was just… too late. The first visit had left him feeling raw all week, and he saw no reason to put himself through that again. He had pretended not to see the disappointment on Carly’s face when he told her that he had too much work to do. “They aren’t normal,” he said to Henry’s still form on Monday morning at the hospital. “I don’t know what they were thinking, expecting me to show up for another one of those… things. They aren’t my family. They don’t even know me.”
