He’d picked a spot in the doorway where he could see her but could also slide backward into invisibility if he wanted to. He watched her remove her shoes under the chair and toe-pull her socks off. Her toenails were painted the pale pink of a lemonade berry flower, one of his favorite native plants. He looked at Laura’s profile, her forehead slightly wrinkled as she focused on her cards. She pulled at her lip when she was about to make a bet, and although her face and torso were absolutely still, her feet were kicking and flexing like mad under the table. He watched her hands as she held and played her cards. Long fingers, deft and accurate. He found them beautiful. She wasn’t the prettiest girl he’d ever seen, he told himself, trying to be objective, trying to rein in his runaway horse a little, but there was something about her face that made him want to stop looking at anyone else.

He went to turn on the kettle for Liz, pulling down a mug and hunting in the cupboard for a peppermint tea bag. When he returned to the patio, the ladies were breaking up for the evening.

He frowned slightly. “No tea, Liz?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m fine,” she said. “You stay here and make sure Maggie doesn’t clean up.” She and the other ladies chatted and laughed their way through the kitchen, followed by Maggie and trailed by the dogs. Bob turned to help Laura, who was already clearing the table.

She grinned at him. “I don’t know if I’ll be invited back,” she said, handing him a stack of plates. “I may have blown my cover too soon.”

Bob carried the dishes inside, and Laura went back and forth quickly, clearing the patio before the hostess had even finished saying goodbye to her guests. Maggie, Anna, and Polly came into the kitchen and started protesting, but Bob waved them away.

“Let the downstairs people take care of downstairs,” he said. “Go to bed, we’re nearly done anyway.”

Anna and Polly needed no encouraging and headed upstairs right away, but Maggie looked around, and sighed. “Fair enough, I see there’s no point in arguing with you.” She peeped out at the garden, where Daisy was Roomba-ing around under the table for dropped candy, sighed again, and then snapped her fingers. “Oh, Laura, I forgot. I put some names for you on a piece of paper and slid it under your door.”

Laura frowned. “Names?”

“Of therapists,” said Maggie blithely. “You can call any of them, they’re all good.”

Laura flushed red, and turned away. “Uh . . . thanks,” she said, and headed out the back door to the garden. “I’ll go check for more dishes.”

Maggie frowned slightly, then turned to take the back stairs up to her floor. “Thank you, Bob, sleep well.”