He looked so bereft in that moment that I put my hand on his shoulder, a prelude to a hug, I thought, or at least a sympathetic gripping. But he pulled away from me. He looked me right in the eyes and raised the half-full water bottle of vodka to his mouth, sucking hard on the white spigot and swallowing theatrically. The plastic crumpled loudly in his hand as his face grew red and his eyes watered.

“Like a house on fi-yah,” he said when he had finished it.

“Let me take you home,” I said. “Before you fall over.”

“Naw, gonna check this place out,” he said. He went in and I stood outside, staring at the door. I thought he might come back out, or get shoved out like a saloon cowboy, but he didn’t. I walked back to the ice-cream line.

“Where’s Michael?” Victoria said.

“In the bar,” I said. I hated to see her shudder, but I was also relieved. I was done taking responsibility.

On our way back to the house, Victoria stepped into Tom’s but Mike wasn’t there anymore; she tried his cell phone and got nothing. When we got back to the house, he wasn’t passed out on the couch, as I’d stupidly hoped he might be. We waited an hour and Victoria drove out to check the other bars on the island. She phoned me from the last place: Should she call the police? It had only been a couple of hours, I told her. If he wanted to be out without answering his phone, he was allowed. She came back and the three of us put the kids to bed. We turned on the TV and watched an awful show about a sex-murderer. By the time the news came on, Victoria was pacing the room.

“Look, this isn’t the first time he’s done this,” Lisa said.

“I have a really bad feeling,” Victoria said. “I just have this feeling that he really doesn’t want to come back.”

“He seemed fine when we were walking,” Lisa said. “He was being very sweet, actually.”

“That’s what he does,” Victoria said. “He makes you think everything’s okay just so he can go and destroy it.”

“I don’t think it’s intentional,” I said.

“Yeah, well, the result is the same,” Victoria said.

Lisa and I went to our room under the pretext of getting ready for bed.

“Do you think he’s all right?” Lisa said. “Should we go look for him?”

“He knows where the house is,” I said. “He’ll come back if he wants to.”

“Why are you being like that?”

“Because I’m tired,” I said. I made sure to keep my voice even. “You go if you’re worried. Hey, bring the kids.”

“You’re pissed at me?”

“Not particularly,” I said.