“Good for you,” replied his mother. “I am less emotionally mature than you. I never forget.” She uncrossed her ankles under the table, subconsciously getting ready to stand up in case she needed to punch someone.

There was a long, long pause. Then Asher said, “Have you forgiven Sarah?”

Maggie looked at her son, her eldest child, and nodded. “Yes,” she sighed. “But that’s not really the point, is it? She doesn’t appear to have forgiven me.”

Asher stood and started gathering the few remaining dishes, thinking of his sister. “I called her from the airport, she hasn’t called me back yet.”

Maggie watched her son and gave an almost imperceptible shrug. He carried some dishes into the kitchen, and when he returned, he was ready to change the subject.

“Have you been dating at all?”

Maggie hooted with laughter. “Me? Are you mad? Why would I risk my hard-won peace and quiet?” She ran her fingers through her hair, leaving one side sticking up in pieces like the Sydney Opera House.

“I don’t know,” he replied. “A desire for physical intimacy? Someone to keep you company? Someone to travel with?”

Maggie looked off into the garden and shook her head. “I’m too old for physical anything, and the thought of traveling is exhausting. As for company, that’s what dogs are for.” She tipped her head toward the house. “And all these tenants. It’s rare there’s no one else in the house, there’s usually someone to talk to.”

“You dated when I was younger.”

Maggie stood up. “No, Asher, this old lady is not interested.”

“You’re not old.”

“I’m sixty.”

“Sixty is the new fifty.”

“Really? It feels like the old sixty to me, and I wasn’t all that interested at fifty, either.” She headed into the house, saying over her shoulder, “If sixty becomes the new thirty, let me know.”

He watched her go into the house, and looked at his phone. His sister still hadn’t responded to his earlier text. He frowned, and texted her again.

“I’m home, when can you get together?”

He finished clearing the table, loaded the dishwasher, and set it going. He stood and looked around the kitchen he’d grown up in, very tired and glad to be home. As he headed up to the guest room, he checked his phone one last time. Nothing.

FIFTEEN

The next morning Laura was up at seven and did a fast three-mile run. Walking back to the house, she pulled out her phone and called her mother.

“Dr. Costello,” said her mother, in the tone of voice she used when she was working. Clearly Laura had caught her on campus. Laura took a deep breath.

“Hi, Mom, it’s me.”