The pizza place is least appealing. It’s the standard pizza place—a counter with a couple of swivel stools, plastic booths, tiled floor. It’s where they always go, which is why it made it to Wilson’s list of finalists; he’s afraid it either would seem strange to Isabelle if they broke tradition and went elsewhere, or, worse, would be obvious to her what he was up to. But then he thinks of Marco, the owner, and how he always leans up against the counter to talk to them as they eat, how he always gives Isabelle candy from the stash he keeps in the back. Wilson can picture Marco’s face at the change in Isabelle, his puzzlement that this sweet little girl he’s known since she was a baby is now silent and unsmiling. And what would Wilson do? Would he pretend nothing was out of the ordinary? Would he lie and say that Isabelle had lost her voice in this cold? Or would he tell Marco the truth when Isabelle went to the bathroom, or over to a table to get oregano or pepper, that his daughter simply will not speak? No, Wilson thinks, the pizza place is out of the question.

He sighs, tired though it’s early. The Mexican place or the diner; it makes no real difference. He lifts the phone to call Ruth. He’ll ask which place is easier for her, which is closest to her doctor’s office—if she’s even going to the doctor. For all Wilson knows, Ruth could be going to the dentist or the chiropractor. He frowns. He should know what kind of appointment his wife has; they used to know these things about each other—what book the other was reading, what their plans were for the day, whether the other was feeling tired, or nervous, or excited about something. He knows none of this now, and this, too, like his dread at the idea of lunch, fills him with guilt.

He dials their home number and listens to it ring three times before Ruth answers.

“Hello?” she says. She sounds weary, and suddenly Wilson wishes that he weren’t calling for any particular reason, that he’d just decided to call and say hello. He wishes that he’d decided about lunch earlier, before he’d gone to work, so that with this call he’d have no agenda but to check in.

“Ruth,” he says quietly. “Ruth.”