Jack arrived on schedule. When Laurie looked through the peephole, all she could see was a bloated image of his broadly grinning face, which he had positioned a mere inch from the lens. She smiled at his antics as she undid the host of locks that secured her door.

“Get in here, you clown!” Laurie said.

“I wanted to be sure you recognized me,” Jack said as he stepped past her. “My chipped, upper-left incisor has become my trademark.”

Just as Laurie was closing her door she caught a glimpse of her neighbor, Mrs. Engler, who’d cracked her door to see who was visiting Laurie. Laurie glared at her. She was such a busybody.

The dinner was a success. The food was perfect and the wine was okay. Jack’s excuse was that the liquor store closest to his apartment specialized in jug wine, not the better stuff.

During the course of the evening, Laurie had to continually bite her tongue to keep the conversation away from sensitive areas. She would have loved to talk about their relationship, but she didn’t dare. She sensed that some of Jack’s hesitance stemmed from his extraordinary personal tragedy. Six years previously, his wife and two daughters had been tragically killed in a commuter-plane crash. Jack had told Laurie about it after they had been dating for several months, but then refused to talk about it again. Laurie sensed that this loss was the biggest stumbling block to their relationship. In a way, this belief helped her to take Jack’s reluctance to commit himself less personally.

Jack had no trouble keeping the conversation light. He’d had a good evening playing pickup basketball at his neighborhood playground and was happy to talk about it. By chance he’d been teamed up with Warren, an all-around impressive African-American, who was the leader of the local gang and by far the best player. Jack and Warren’s team didn’t lose all evening.

“How is Warren?” Laurie asked. Jack and Laurie had frequently double-dated with Warren and his girlfriend, Natalie Adams. Laurie hadn’t seen either of them since before she and Jack had their falling-out.

“Warren’s Warren,” Jack said. He shrugged. “He’s got so much potential. I’ve tried my best to get him to take some college courses, but he resists. He says my value system isn’t his, so I’ve given up.”

“And Natalie?”

“Fine, I guess,” Jack said. “I haven’t seen her since we all went out.”

“We should do it again,” Laurie said. “I miss seeing them.”

“That’s an idea,” Jack said evasively.

There was a pause. Laurie could hear Tom’s purring. After eating and cleaning up, Jack moved to the couch. Laurie sat across from him in her art-deco club chair she’d purchased in the Village.

Laurie sighed. She felt frustrated. It seemed juvenile that they couldn’t talk about emotionally important issues.

Jack checked his watch. “Uh-oh!” he said. He moved himself forward so that he was sitting on the very edge of the couch. “It’s quarter to eleven,” Jack added. “I’ve got to be going. It’s a school night and bed is beckoning.”