“What did you do for your twenty-sixth birthday?” I asked.

“You think I’m older than twenty-six?” he said.

I smiled.

“Oh God, I don’t remember,” he said. “It wasn’t like this. Only a woman can throw a beautiful party like this.”

As if he were reading my thoughts, he reached his hands out. “Let me hold the baby!” he said.

I passed William over and watched him snuggle into Carlow’s chest; they obviously knew each other. I leaned on one arm of the chair, next to them, conscious of how close my hip was to his bicep.

“When did you meet Lonnie?” I said.

Carlow bent closer to me as he spoke, his face coming up to my shoulder. “I’m friends with James,” he said. “We met her at the same time. It was her twenty-first birthday, which I guess makes this the five-year mark. She was having a picnic on Governors Island—a day party before the night party—she’s always made a big deal out of her own birthday. It started raining, actually a terrible summer thunderstorm, and everyone on the island ran to the dock. We didn’t know her, we were there with other friends, but we were all crammed together under the awning.”

I pictured wet tendrils of hair plastered to her chest.

“What I really remember,” Carlow said, “was telling James she was probably too young, but, the way things turned out, what the hell do I know? You know, that first day, I told James she looked like trouble to me.”

I wanted to ask him why he’d said that, what he meant, but he smiled then, and held out William to pass back to me, which I took to signal the end of the conversation.

WHEN IT WAS FINALLY LATE ENOUGH, I TOOK WILLIAM INTO THE kitchen. Pilar had gone home and the lights were turned down low; small yellow circles illuminated the countertops. The dishwasher was gurgling and hot against my thighs as I reached up to get a bottle. William had his fingers in his mouth. His shirt was untucked and wrinkled, with chocolate stains on the collar. He nuzzled into my neck, his eyelids drooping as I filled the bottle with milk. I sat down at the kitchen table with him on my lap, deciding to give the bottle to him there. He slumped his little body into mine, sucking absently at the milk.

I heard footsteps on the stairs and soon after saw James saunter over to a kitchen cabinet, followed by Carlow and another man I didn’t know. Carlow saw me right away, giving me a smile in greeting, but it took James a moment. He was focused on finding a bottle of scotch buried somewhere in the back of a cupboard. “Gentlemen,” he said as he pulled it out and swung around. “Oh, Elle,” he said. “Time for him to go to bed?”