TWENTY

On Saturday it was hot before eight in the morning and Laura skipped her run for once, saving her energy for whatever heavy lifting was involved in gardening. She and Bob met up in the kitchen, and she hoped she’d dressed appropriately. She’d borrowed loose cotton pants from Polly and hoped they would keep her cool enough. Bob was wearing his usual jeans and a T-shirt from some gardening-related company. Laura wondered randomly if she would have to wear physical therapy–related T-shirts once she was working. Did such things even exist? She hadn’t forgotten the connection she and Bob had shared the other night, but she was trying to. No time for distractions this year. Or probably next year, either.

“So, where exactly are we going?” Laura looked at Bob, who was pouring coffee and tea into two to-go cups.

“Culver City,” he said. “It’s maybe half an hour away.” He hesitated. “Are you comfortable going in the truck? I got the side mirror fixed.”

Laura made a scornful noise and nodded. “Of course. I was only surprised the other day.” This wasn’t entirely true; she was feeling a little nauseated with anxiety about being on the road, actually, but she was in no way ready to show it. She’d spent ten minutes in the shower telling herself not to freak out, and was hoping she was going to take her own advice. You’re a tough cookie, she told herself over and over and over. This cookie is not for crumbling.

Bob looked at her, but she was bending down to pet Herbert the dog, who was waving his tail gently, stirring the air to get a better sniff at it. When she lifted her head, Bob smiled at her, relieved she was OK, his own nervousness about the day starting to fade away. Laura wasn’t like most of the women he met in Los Angeles. She was easier to be with, less . . . demanding. Everything about her was self-contained, and everything she said and did made it clear she valued her independence. He wondered what it took to get under her skin, and then he found himself wondering about her skin, and told himself to snap out of it.

They headed out of the house, and Laura took a deep breath before opening the truck and climbing in. I’m fine, it’s fine, everything is fine.

Bob turned on the engine, and looked at her. “OK?”

She nodded and gave him one of her big smiles. If he knew how scared she was, he would lose all respect for her, she was certain.

“I’m great, let’s go.”

Bob reversed out of the driveway and swung into the street. Laura’s tummy lurched, but she breathed deeply and threatened herself to calm it down.

Let’s talk about something else. “So, tell me about this teacher of yours. He sounds interesting.”