That Friday afternoon—when Amy was away with Jimmy in Orange County—Matt had an early dinner with Kathy. He wasn’t sure who invited whom but he drove them both to the restaurant. It was a pleasure to be in the car with a woman who liked the music real loud. Particularly, the rock stations—Kathy had tastes similar to his own.

“Do you notice how lousy music is these days compared to twenty or thirty years ago?” she said. “All that rap shit. If you say you hate it you get accused of being racist. But I don’t think anyone with a brain likes it. Give me Led Zeppelin or The Who or The Rolling Stones any day.”

“Real cerebral music,” Matt remarked.

“Hey, at least they have rhythm. I listen to rap and I feel like I have to load my piece or abuse my woman.”

“Do you have a piece?” he asked.

She gave him a look. “What if I told you I did?”

“I’d be careful not to abuse you.”

They went to Gladstones, at the end of Sunset by the beach. Got a booth by the window. The sea was gray, the blue sky partly cloudy. Kathy wore tight black pants, a white blouse, a red scarf around her neck. She’d put on makeup; her lips were as red as her scarf. He ordered swordfish and Kathy asked for the same. He dug into the bread and salad while they waited for their meals, but Kathy begged off the preliminaries.

“Don’t be offended if I eat only a tiny bit of fish,” she said. “My digestion is lousy. I have to watch my diet carefully.”

“Has it always been that way?”

She hesitated. “No. Just in the last year.”

“What brought on the problem? Stress?”

“Yes.”

When their fish arrived, he realized she had not been kidding. She ate very slowly, chewed every bite as if it was her last. Along with her fish and rice, she had water and a handful of pills she described as digestive enzymes. She saw his concern but brushed it off.

“This way I don’t have to diet,” she said.

“Have you seen a doctor about it?”

“Yeah. Lots of doctors.”

“What did they say?”

“That I’m a very lucky woman.”

“Kathy?”

She smiled. “Let’s not talk about me. Let’s talk about you. Where is Amy today?”

“Amy is me?” he asked, teasing.

Kathy spoke seriously. “Is she?”

Matt chewed on his bread. “Sometimes I have to wonder.”

But he didn’t tell her much. And she didn’t tell him that much about Tony.

They stayed out past dark. Matt called the apartment from the restaurant. Amy was already back with Jimmy. David was out of town—Amy said she could stay over. He thought it was a perfect time for Kathy to meet her. But Kathy begged off when they reached the complex.