“Sounds like you’re around the corner. Where do you get that from, again?” I said.

“What?”

“That name you call me.”

“The Rubber Duck Regatta. Cincinnati’s big claim to fame. Other than myself, of course.”

“Oh, I remember. So, what are you up to?”

“This and that,” said Robin gnomically. “This and that.”

“Like what?” I heard a piano playing. “What is it, four there?”

“Something like that. Listen. It’s the Shostakovich. Second movement.”

Even before Maddy grew hungry for music, Robin had opened his world up to me, persuading me of the grace in what seemed ungainly or incomplete. He held his phone near the speaker. The melody sleepwalked into the beat: two against three, four against three . . .

“My favorite part,” I said.

“I’m learning to play it. Want to hear?” Scraping, rustling . . . the passage came into my ear again, more distant, from the real piano this time. In Robin’s hands it was not yet fluent but just as haunting. It was odd to picture him there, in our cute, functional house, where the ceilings were low, the doorknobs round, and the open-plan kitchen was built with the needs of large appliances in mind. From here, the house seemed like a temporary structure that could easily be dismantled.

“Wow, Robin. Are you learning it for me?”

“You might say that.”

“Aren’t you working today?”

“No.” He sounded buoyant. “I’m going to the lake tonight.”

“Again?”

“I’m on a roll with the room.”

“It must be freezing up there.”

“Not too bad. Anyway, I have the space heater.”

I offered details about my interviews, London buses and London weather, my odd companion and my gracious host. Into one of the pauses that developed between us, I said: “I met Antonio today.”

I knew from his silence he was taken aback. “Why didn’t you say?” The question had an edge to it and he waited before continuing. “Did you tell him about Maddy?”

“He was shocked.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“He was crying.”

The mention of strong emotion silenced Robin again. Then: “Did he get to know Maddy well enough for that? Or was it just the idea of her?”

“Both, I guess. Not the kind of thing you can ask someone right off the bat. It was bizarre seeing him, Robin. Not what I expected at all.”

Our words had become points ringed with unspoken thoughts.

“Well, what did you expect?”

“I didn’t expect him to look so much like Maddy.”