What Love's Got To Do With It

Show the son how to create what his father didn't have—family—wherever he goes. How to bellow, "How the heck you doin', darlin'?" as soon as you roll through a restaurant or shop door, then ask how darlin's sister and dad are faring as well, until half of Lincoln knows you, and the kid gets the hang of it too.

Make sure he never, ever feels the loneliness his dad once did when he had no parent to pick him up after school. Rush from work to be first in the car-pool line to pick up him and his sister at Sacred Heart, and don't, for an instant, waver when they howl, "But, Dad, we live right across the street!"

Lay love on the kid so thick that he bounces right back even when the father growls too loud over a lapse of effort on the ball field. Remember, the way Harlan eventually does, that all the boy really needs is his dad's presence on that scooter, and a quiet "Don't you realize what you have, son?" for him to get it, and give all he's got.

Start a ritual, every night as the boy drowses off to sleep at the father's side.

"I love you," says Harlan.

"I love you," says Joba.

"Good night!"

"Good night!"

"Sweet dreams!"

"Sweet dreams!"