He thought about this. There were a couple of levels of difficulty. He didn’t want to ask Kate to clarify their relationship, for fear of messing with a good thing. But he was also wary of her interacting with his father while they occupied this ambiguous sexual space. He didn’t care for Kate to be a subject of contemplation for his father at all, really.

“It would be fun if it works out,” he said, diplomatically, he hoped. She was silent. He stumbled forward, trying to move past the subject.

“I saw your kids at Good Pie the other day,” he said. He regretted it before it was all the way out of his mouth.

“Oh?” she said.

“Yeah, they sat down right next to me,” he said.

“And did you … interact with them?”

“Well…” The die was cast, if that was the right saying. “Jason called me a faggot,” he said.

“What?”

“That was a joke,” he said.

“No, seriously, Alex, what did he say?”

“He asked me for the red pepper, I passed it to him. He said, ‘Thanks, homophobic slur.’”

Kate turned back to the pot of sauce.

“I mean, I could have misheard.”

“Jason doesn’t like red pepper,” she said quietly.

“Look, it’s not a big deal,” Alex said. Why had he lied about the condiment?

“You’re telling me my son is going around saying hateful things to strangers.”

“I’d like to think he’s just misinformed,” he said.

She shook some oregano into the sauce and then went to the sink.

“You shouldn’t be talking to them,” she said.

“I’m sorry I brought it up,” Alex said. “They’re great-looking kids.”

“Yeah, I know,” Kate said.

She started chopping vegetables and Alex stared at her back over the top of his book. She was wearing a tight faux-leather skirt that Alex couldn’t be sure was intended for his appreciation. Of course, he shouldn’t have mentioned the boys. File under shit you don’t learn by dating twenty-two-year-olds.

They ate dinner sitting side by side on the couch, their plates resting on the coffee table that Alex had cleared of her books for the occasion. Kate had lived here for three months but refused to decorate it or even unpack all the boxes, since it was only supposed to be until the divorce settlement was finalized, when she would “have a better idea of the ol’ finances.” The clutter helped bridge the age gap for Alex; he felt comfortable in squalor.

“I want to see that violent Ryan Gosling movie,” Alex said after five minutes of silence.

“I can’t remember the last time I even went to the movies,” Kate said.

“We should do it,” Alex said.

“Movies are expensive,” she said. “And usually terrible.”

He put his hand on her knee, and she looked down at it, then back up at him, before shifting away.