It’s so awkward I can hardly breathe. “He’s here for Giddy and for the others, not really to see me. You know that. I just kind of help . . .”

“Nonsense. Nothing wrong with taking on a beau at your age. So these are your going out clothes?”

“I guess . . . I didn’t really bring much with me when I came over, so sometimes I have to borrow my grandmother’s clothes.”

“Violet always did strike a bit of style, God bless her soul. I’d give you some of my old things but I’m just so awfully petite.”

The doorbell rings again.

“Go on, now. Don’t leave your suitor at the threshold. The way you linger anyone would think you’re simply loath to abandon me.”

I walk over and kiss the air next to each of her cheeks. “See you on Monday, Mrs. Tyburn.”

She reaches into the drawer of the end table next to her, takes out an envelope with my week’s wages, and hands it to me. “Until Monday, my darling.”

I open the door and Jason looks up and blows out a mouthful of cigarette smoke, and we stand there for a minute, looking at each other.

His eyes are Thanksgiving-turkey brown and he has a smile out of a catalog. His whole look would be too pretty, too all-American white boy, if it wasn’t for the little imperfections, the scar over his right eye, the cigarette always hanging from his lips or pressed between his yellowed fingers, the little rips of skin by his fingernails. His disheveled short brown hair makes him look like a newborn kitten. And even though he’s always got sour nicotine breath, his kisses, even a little peck hello, always get to me.

“You’re back,” I say when we pull apart from our hello kiss.

“I’m back.” He smiles again and does a half laugh before he turns and we start off together down the path toward the center of the island.

“How’s Giddy?” I ask him, even though I saw his grandmother myself in Rose’s shop yesterday. She’ll be different for him than she is for me, anyway. Giddy smiles, says hello, tolerates me. As we make our way over to Suzie and Johnny at the Psychedelicatessen, he tells me about their day together, getting stoned and planting winter veggies in Giddy’s garden plot, digging new beer traps for slugs. She made cucumber soup for lunch, and they talked about the latest book for their two-person book club. Giddy called him out for not finishing it before she confessed to dropping it herself a chapter after he had. He’s animated, like the day’s been an adventure, like he would love her even if he didn’t have to, like he’d come to see his grandmother even if he wasn’t obliged. I manage to contain the jealousy before it gets to be too much.