When Tony is seventeen he says, "I wish my father were dead," and then waits, listening to his heartbeat as seconds turn to minutes and he still means it.
Then he notices how his hands are trembling. Probably the coffee. After all, only wishes you don't mean get granted – the universe's only law is irony.
Later there's the car-crash. And either the universe has just broken its fundamental law, or Tony loved his father. As he waits for the funeral to end, he strings out some calculations.
It's no use. Both alternatives seem equally unlikely.