Besides, he had a new girlfriend, twenty-five-year-old Debra Marsh. That was his supposed chore, to go over and have lunch and sex with her. She was good for him in a lot of ways. She talked a lot and didn’t mind if he listened. He had met her at a bar. In Modesto, drinking was as obligatory as wiping the dust from one’s eyes. She worked in an office somewhere downtown. There was only one problem with the relationship. He could not come during sex unless he pretended she was Amy. It was not as disgusting as it sounded. He suspected the technique kept a lot of couples together.

But he did not love Debra any more than he had loved Cindy.

Yet he liked her; there was a lot to be said for just liking someone.

“What are you reading?” Lupe asked as she checked on sleeping Jimmy. Matt hastily put away the copies of the e-mails. He was a fool to keep them. Lupe could read them when he was out and put two and two together. He reassured himself she was not a snoop, but the truth was, everyone was.

“Just some old letters from online friends,” he said.

“Girlfriends?” Lupe only appeared conservative—one of those staunch Roman Catholics who carried a condom in her purse. She had come on to him several times, but he knew it would be a mistake to mix business with pleasure. Jimmy was used to her. It was odd, but in this matter, he had no trouble putting Jimmy first. Lupe added, “You need to get out more.”

“You don’t like Debra?” he asked.

“I like her. I like watermelons too. But it doesn’t mean I would sleep with one.”

“She’s not that stupid.”

“She’s not smart.” Lupe moved closer to Jimmy. She loved him as if he was her own. He had told her that Jimmy’s mother had died in a car accident not long after giving birth. He had said it with such feeling, they had both ended up crying. Lupe gently poked Jimmy. “I think he’s waking up.”

Jimmy had one eye open, and was yawning. He looked unbearably cute. How could anyone think of the long term in the face of such innocence? Yet, Matt knew that one day he would have to decide what he was going to do with the child. Only, it would be tomorrow, always tomorrow.

“He only took a little formula before his nap,” Matt said. “He’s probably still hungry.”

Lupe brushed aside a wisp of Jimmy’s hair. “He looks more and more like you each day.”

Matt shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Lupe shook her head. “He has your eyes, exactly, and the same shape of face. Get some of your own baby pictures and compare them. You’ll be stunned.”