“But how are you, Barb?”

I smiled, feeling tears prick my eyes just a little bit. “Doing good. How about you? I feel like we haven’t talked about you in ages.”

She sighed and settled back. “Ted and I are done for good now.”

“Is that right? What happened?”

She shrugged. “Is it callous of me to say I don’t know and don’t care enough to analyze it? We didn’t have anything to say to each other these past few years, and I thought, why am I bothering? It’s not like we’re married.”

“Is he sad?”

“No. He’s dating a forty-eight-year-old.”

“Oh, that’s just gross, now.”

“Tell me about it.” She sighed. “I might get a condo, Barb. The house seems so big these days.”

“Move in with me.”

She smiled. “That’d be so much fun, wouldn’t it?”

I sat up straighter. “Caro. Move in with me.”

She shifted to face me. “Don’t you want to be alone?” she asked. “After all this time? Date somebody, maybe? Join Tinder? Get laid?”

I laughed. “Does that sound like me?” I thought a minute. “I’ve been thinking a lot about marriage these days, Caro. What it means, what love is, commitment, all that.”

“Sure you have. It’s been a rough few months.”

“The thing is . . . well, I’m not a lesbian, you know? I don’t think so, anyway. No, I’m not. You’re beautiful, of course, don’t take it personally.”

She threw back her head and laughed.

My throat grew tight. I always loved her laugh, her smile, those dimples and the way her eyes crinkled, making her look forty years younger. “Caro, I think you’re the love of my life. No one’s been there for me like you have. You’re the best friend I ever had, the person I can really talk to. You can make me laugh at everything, even my husband cheating on me.” I reached over and took her hand. “I can’t think of anything nicer than us sharing a house.”

“I have always loved your house more than mine,” she said. “You know what? I’ll think about it. We could do it on a trial basis, maybe. Let me run it past my boys and see what they think.”

“That sounds great.”

We kept holding hands, listening to the birds as they sang their evening songs, sipping our wine.

“The love of your life, huh?” she said.

“Well, it’s sure not John.”

She laughed. “Then I guess you’re the love of mine, too.”

“Girl power, as the kids say,” I said.

“Friends till the end.”

“I do love you.”

She squeezed my hand. “I love you, too.” She clinked her glass against mine. “Here’s to housemates. Who cares what the boys think? I’m bringing my purple chair, though.”

“You better. I love that chair.”