“Okay.” His apartment was on the fourth floor, facing the beach, with a view up the coast. She pointed out her place—on the second floor—as they went up the steps. Matt had never lived in an apartment that didn’t face a wall or a trailer park. Now he understood why people paid for views. The wide open vista was expansive—it made staying home a lot more bearable. Kathy brought a blue towel with her as they walked, wearing it like a cape. Again, he was taken by her beauty and friendliness. Amy seldom talked to strangers.

Inside his place, he left Jimmy with Kathy for a minute and went in the bathroom for the sunblock. She seemed happy to take the child. When he returned they were engaged in an animated discussion about a box of colored blocks Amy had bought for Jimmy. Like his mother, Jimmy was normally guarded with people but such was not the case today.

“Thanks,” she said as she took the lotion and studied the label. “Wow, SPF sixty. I can lay out all day with this stuff on.”

“I read somewhere that above fifteen, sunblock doesn’t get any stronger.”

“If you read it then it must be true,” she quipped.

“You sound like me. A born believer.”

“Or at least we started out that way.”

He nodded. “Yeah. I suppose I’ve lost a little faith along the way.”

“Easy to do these days.” She set Jimmy down on the floor and messed up his hair. “Take care of yourself, big fella. You too, Simon, hope to see you around. We can share books during our self-imposed sabbaticals.”

“I would like that.”

She moved toward the door and then paused and glanced back. Her blue eyes pierced the apartment shadows. He thought she would speak again but she only smiled. Then she was gone, and he thought how easy and natural it was to talk to her. He decided right then he would try to bump into her again.

MATT GOT together with Kathy two days later, by the pool. They talked about books and politics and she invited him back to her apartment for tea. He had met a teenage girl in the complex who was anxious to make a few bucks babysitting. He left Jimmy with her right then—a risk but one he felt he had to take. He was a good father but not superdad. He had to start getting out more or he would go crazy.

Kathy’s home was sparsely furnished. She had hardly moved in at all. He had rented his apartment furnished. It looked as if neither of them knew where they were headed next. She apologized for the lack of places to sit.

“I’m not in the mood to collect stuff these days,” she said as she put on the teakettle. He sat at her kitchen counter.