Alice kept mostly silent during the meal, except when she was asked direct questions, either about her job at the drugstore or the courses she was taking at MCC. No one asked her about Jake, and what he was up to, at least not at the dinner table. She felt strange during dinner, not uncomfortable exactly, but like an alien that had been dropped into a typical American family, full of inside jokes and overlapping conversation. It was different, so much louder, than what she was used to with Jake, just the two of them, everything perfect and civilized. A small part of her was jealous, only because there was something relaxing about not always being the center of attention, not always having eyes on you, but then Alice looked at Gina, the way her eyes were darting between members of her family, her fingers tugging on one of her earlobes till it had turned an angry red, and she thought: No, family life is messy, and unpredictable. Who would want that?

After dinner, when the two youngest girls were tasked with clearing the table, Alice caught Gina giving her mother a quick glance, then saying, awkwardly, “New rule: the grown women get the night off cleaning.”

“New rule?” Mr. Bergeron said.

Gina was standing. “Come on, Alice, let’s go outside a minute.”

“Gotta get her fix,” said Gina’s younger sister, pantomiming taking a puff of a cigarette.

“I’ll come, too,” said Mrs. Bergeron, as Alice rose from the table, suddenly nervous.

It was balmy outside for September, the dark sky filled with stars. Gina did light up a cigarette before the back screen door slammed shut, then took a seat on one of the patio chairs. She offered the pack to Alice, who turned it down.

“Smart girl,” said Mrs. Bergeron, leaning against the outdoor table.

Alice sat next to Gina on the very edge of a chair. She said how much she’d enjoyed dinner, then immediately asked about Gina’s oldest brother, Howie, who hadn’t been there that night. She just wanted to keep asking questions to avoid the discussion that she felt was coming. Mrs. Bergeron said that Howie was doing the backpack thing in Europe, and she wondered if he’d ever return. While she spoke, Alice felt Gina’s eyes on her. She turned toward her just as she was snuffing the butt of her cigarette out against the bottom of her sandal.

“You should—” Alice began, but Gina interrupted her.

“Alice, I want to talk about Jake.”

“So do I,” said Mrs. Bergeron.

“Okay,” said Alice. She could feel the blood rushing into her face, her skin heating up.