“Hey, Nest,” Robert Heppler said.

He stood with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans and one tennis shoe bumping nervously against the worn threshold. “You going to invite me in or what?” He gave her one of his patented cocky grins and tossed back the shoulder-length blond hair from his angular face.

She shook her head. “I don’t know. What are you doing here, anyway?”

“You mean like, ‘here at eight o’clock in the morning,’ or like, ‘here in Hopewell as opposed to Palo Alto’? You’re wondering if I was tossed out of school, right?”

“Were you?”

“Naw. Stanford needs me to keep its grade point average high enough to attract similarly brilliant students. I was just in the neighborhood and decided to stop by, share a few laughs, maybe see if you’re in the market for a boyfriend.” He was talking fast and loose to keep up his confidence. He glanced past her toward the kitchen. “Do I smell coffee? You’re alone, aren’t you? I mean, I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

“Jeez, Robert, you are such a load.” She sighed and stepped back. “Come on in.”

She beckoned him to follow and led him down the hall. The screen door banged shut behind them and she winced, remembering how Gran had hated it when she did that.

“So what are you really doing here?” she pressed him, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the kitchen table as she reached for the coffeepot and a cup. The coffee steamed in the morning air as she poured it.

He shrugged, giving her a furtive look. “I saw your car, knew you were home, thought I should say hello. I know it’s early, but I was afraid I might miss you.”

She handed him the coffee and motioned for him to sit down, but he remained standing. “I’ve been waiting to hear from you,” she said pointedly.

“You know me, I don’t like to rush things.” He looked away quickly, unable to meet her steady gaze. He sipped gingerly from his cup, then made a face. “What is this stuff?”

Nest lost her patience. “Look, did you come here to insult me, or do you need something, or are you just lonely again?”

He gave her his hurt puppy look. “None of the above.” He glanced down at the real estate papers, which were sitting on the counter next to him, then looked up at her again. “I just wanted to see you. I didn’t see you all summer, what with you off running over hill and dale and cinder track.”

“Robert, don’t start …”

“Okay, I know, I know. But it’s true. I haven’t seen you since your grandfather’s funeral.”

“And whose fault is that, do you think?”

He pushed his glasses further up on his nose and screwed up his mouth. “Okay, all right. It’s my fault. I haven’t seen you because I knew how badly I messed up.”

“You were a jerk, Robert.”

He flinched as if struck. “I didn’t mean anything.”