Bob nodded, then turned to Laura. “He thinks we’re up to no good.”

Laura giggled nervously, half wishing it were true.

They’d driven across the enormous parking lot and found a well-lit section away from the gates. Bob had spent the time explaining the difference between Bermuda grass, which is what they grew on the field here, and bluegrass, which they use in East Coast ball fields. As always Laura found the sound of him talking calming, the familiar sense of being on firm ground. If Bob didn’t want to complicate things by having a romantic relationship, then she would content herself with friendship, because there was something about his presence that made her feel safe. She was used to providing her own security while at the same time pretending she didn’t need it.

Then Bob had parked and gotten out of the truck, leaving the driver’s door open for Laura.

Now she stood next to the open door and worried.

“You’ll be fine,” said Bob, sliding into the passenger seat. “This is as easy to drive as any car, it’s just higher off the ground.” He leaned down and peered at Laura through the open door. “How about we start with you simply sitting behind the wheel? We won’t even turn on the engine.”

Laura nodded, and breathed slowly as she settled behind the wheel. She put her hands on it. Breathed some more.

“I’m fine,” she said, looking at him. “I’m fine.”

“Great,” he said. “Do you want to swap back now?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Really?”

He nodded. “Yes. There’s no rush, right?” He blushed. “We can come back every night if you like.” He paused. “Unless they’re playing at home, in which case the lot will be full.” He perked up. “But we can go to SoFi instead, the Rams stadium.” He laughed. “We can move from venue to venue as the seasons come and go.”

Laura reached out and turned on the engine, feeling vibration through a steering wheel for the first time in over two years. Sense memory is powerful stuff, and as she put the truck in drive and moved forward, she was pleased to feel . . . normal.

“Or,” said Bob, surprised, “you could drive right away.”

Slowly, in a long curve, Laura crossed the parking lot and circled back to where she’d started. She parked, put her head down on the wheel, and wept. She was shaking, she felt light-headed, she wasn’t sure how she’d done it, but she’d done it.

Bob sat there quietly, waiting.

Finally, Laura raised her head and looked at him.