She touched the papers. “Was he a nice guy? He sounds like a nice guy.”

“Nice enough. I was crazy about him at the time.” I paused. “Well, he can’t be that nice if he abandoned a pregnant girlfriend.”

“No.”

“And never tried to contact me.”

“Did you want him to?”

“I’d have shut him out if he had. My unforgiving streak.”

“Did Maddy know about your unforgiving streak?”

“What do you mean?”

“Is that why she didn’t tell you?”

“How should I know!”

Norma did an “okay, okay” thing with her palms and gazed off at the dock.

“See, that’s the problem,” I began in a conciliatory tone. “I can’t ask her. I can’t even—”

A workman stood before us, thumbs hooked in his tool belt. He glanced from Norma to me and back again. “Could I borrow you for a sec? It’s about that corner cabinet. We could’ve measured wrong.”

Norma got up, shooting me an apologetic look. “Be right back.”

In her absence I studied my fingernails. I had not repainted them. The color had shrunk to an island of white-flecked purple in the center of each nail. Picnic table benches were hard to relax on. I adopted a number of stiff positions while gazing off, pretending to enjoy the view; our cottage looked far away and closed up. I would call Robin when I got back.

I didn’t hear Norma until she was sitting down again.

“There is a way to find out,” she said. “Two ways.”

“Did they measure wrong?”

She looked blank.

“The cabinet.”

“Oh. They did, as a matter of fact. But it’s salvageable. I’m not even calling Tanner.”

“Find out what?” I asked.

“Didn’t Maddy say her grandfather knew she was contacting him?”

“True.” I had not allowed myself to consider this yet.

“Your dad didn’t tell you what was going on?”

“No,” I said shortly.

“Wow,” said Norma. “What a secretive family.”

“What’s the other way?”

“Find Antonio,” she said.

I snorted and my foot collided with Homer. Gamely he rose and stretched. “I’m not doing that! I raise his child, and then he starts something with her behind my back? No thanks.”

“Maddy wrote to him first . . .” Norma ventured.

“Are you taking his side?”

Considering me for a moment, she said mildly, “Well, since you can’t talk to Maddy, at least you’d get his point of view.”

Beyond Norma’s roped-off dock the open water resembled wet stone. I was warming to her idea. Something had me in its grip, and what it promised was far more primitive and gratifying than knowledge, or the mirage of closure.

“You know, I think you’re right,” I said slowly. “I might just do that. Put him in the picture.”

18