When he thought about it rationally, he believed Leigh had been the smart one. They couldn’t have made it work; she hovered above the average mind by about twenty feet. No matter how great their bodies worked together, it would have been unbearable to watch her grow bored and weary with someone like him—a simple man who didn’t earn much money and couldn’t discuss science. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to think about it rationally very often.

But now he knew she had twin sons, and he realized what else had been going on. That first night he met her, she had said one of her marital frustrations had been about children. Seven months after that first shared drink, after the first time they were intimate, she had had twins. She must not have been all that separated from her husband. She must have realized she was pregnant and taken herself guiltily home to Max, disconnecting from her summer affair. It made him feel slightly better to know that her inability to bridge the IQ gap hadn’t been her only reason for leaving. Very slightly.

He was afraid to see her again, yet he wanted desperately to see her again. He was no braver. Also no smarter.

* * *

Jess was repotting a plant on her redwood deck. She could see her grandsons, Mitch and Ty, constructing a fort in the thick batch of trees behind the yard and garden. They had taken turns swinging on a rope swing; they had nailed boards together in a sad attempt to make a ladder up the crooked spine of a perfect tree-house tree. She predicted they would ask to sleep in a tent in the backyard before the end of the week. She would say no. But it was grand to know they were average. Active, curious, healthy, athletic boys… What a treasure. They could keep themselves busy and challenged. They could get into the same jams that all kids did—a ball through a window, swiped candy, a fight.

Leigh been such a handful to raise; she had been reading at the age of two, skipped grades and taken special classes and advanced lessons all through school. Leigh had been so relentlessly curious that she mixed cleaning supplies with fertilizers after she had picked the lock on the garden shed. It was amazing she hadn’t killed herself; she had burned a hole through the floor.

Having her home was much like having Cal back. Ninety-five percent of the time Leigh was a joy and best friend—clever, funny, helpful. That other five percent she was like a wandering two-year-old. Jess hadn’t yet encountered the five percent this visit; Leigh seemed to be improving at keeping her mind clear.

The first thing they had to get out of the way was the business of Jess’s heart abnormality.

“I want to talk to your doctor,” Leigh had said.