“I understand. And I think you’re doing an incredible job.” And she had to end it right now before she fell any deeper.

“I’m not so sure. I forgot to take Dizzy the giraffe when we went the store yesterday. I underestimated the role he plays in each shopping expedition. I bought a brand of yogurt that apparently everyone but me knows is ‘yucky,’ and I left Molly’s drink at home so I grabbed something from the shelf that I was later told had so much sugar in it her teeth will probably fall out by Friday.” He kept his arms round her. “And then there was the conversation. I wasn’t expecting to have to answer a question about where babies come from in the baked goods aisle.”

“She asked? Oh that’s adorable.” End it, Flora! Just end it.

“In a very loud voice. She saw a baby in a stroller. I tried telling her that the baby had come from the car just outside, but she didn’t buy it. She wanted to know its entire life history from conception to birth.”

Flora could picture Molly, wide-eyed, and Jack, stumbling and fumbling. Even in her current state of stress, the thought of it amused her.

“I assume you do know where babies come from?” They were breaking up and she was flirting? She was treating this like a final fun date. Was she a masochist?

“I have a vague clue, although I confess that the sexual frustration I’ve suffered lately may have caused a degree of brain damage. In the end I gave her a very brief and basic explanation, based on advice given by a bunch of articles I found on the internet when I was searching on my phone while loading the cart with bagels. Again, the wrong ones because apparently we don’t eat whole wheat. In case you didn’t already know, there are a lot of ‘yucky’ foods on sale out there. I had no idea she was so fussy, but I didn’t used to do the shopping. And she’s having such a rough time I don’t want to take a stand over things like food.”

“You said she was having problems at school. Has something specific happened?” She promised herself that she’d end it just as soon as she’d had an update on his daughter.

He hesitated. “Nothing. Don’t worry. It’s not your problem.”

He was right. It wasn’t her problem.

End it, Flora, end it.

“We’re friends, Jack. Friends share the things that worry them.” It wasn’t strictly true. She rarely shared what worried her, but this wasn’t about her. Right now there was a little girl hurting the way she had once hurt. “Tell me about Molly.” She tugged him across the grass to the nearest empty bench.