Joey did not say anything. He took the boat to the kitchen table and sat down with it in front of him and looked at it with his chin in his hands, and he was still there, unmoving, Lazer Tag forgotten, when they sat down to the Christmas lasagna at two o'clock.
He lasted until the salad.
"It was me," he said.
Everyone looked at him. He was looking at Rosemary.
"Yesterday. The snowball. I threw it at Aunt Lena. I always throw at her, she screams good. And then she turned around and I said he did it. Danny. Because he was right there." He swallowed. "It's easier when it's somebody else's fault. Then you don't get in trouble. You just point."
"Oh, honey," Theresa said.
"And it wasn't an accident," Joey went on, very fast now, like a dam going. "Not all of it. We had a plan. Me and Kevin and Moose. Because he asked us on Monday, when we were carrying lamps, he asked was Lena Marchetti coming home for Christmas, and he got this face, and Moose said in the movies when people fight they end up liking each other, like in that one with the treasure and the jungle, and so I said next time she comes out I'm hitting her and blaming him. It was Operation Snowfall. Kevin named it." He looked at the wooden boat. "And then Grandma said he was trouble and he killed Grandpa with the car. But he didn't. He wasn't even there. It's not his fault. It's just easier."