Lindsay hoped that he was also kidding about mentioning her to his daughter. Her own father had remarried when she was the same age as Nora. When he and Miriam split eight years later, Lindsay was almost as devastated as that day in kindergarten when her mother finally explained why she had lost so much weight and seemed tired all the time. She and Scott had been dating for almost two years, but on the spectrum between having designated drawer space at each other’s apartments (check) and picking out a china pattern (nope), meeting Nora felt like nailing things down for good.

Her father, on the other hand, liked to remind her that she was “already” thirty-six years old. In his world, that meant she should be married by now and working on getting pregnant, and with Scott being forty-five, he might not be interested in a second kid for long. Her father, like everyone else who met Scott, declared him to be “perfect.” Only Hope knew Lindsay’s reason for not jumping all in.

As if reading her thoughts, he texted again. Did you make a plan to see Hope?

She had told him yesterday that she wanted to drive out east and make sure everything was okay there. No. Like you said, she asked for space, and I need to give it to her.

Maybe when you do visit, we can make a weekend out of it. Beer and Jenga reunion.

It was a reference to where they had first met, on the patio at Montauk Brewery, on opposite teams of a game of Giant Jenga, stacking blocks the size of shoe boxes into an increasingly precarious tower until the entire structure came tumbling down.

You can’t throw the game if you’re on my team, though. The first time they spent the night together, Scott had admitted to tipping the blocks intentionally so he and Lindsay could continue their conversation without interruption. Miss you.

You up for a guest tomorrow night?

Would love that. She knew he’d be dropping Nora off to his ex’s apartment on the Upper East Side after an early dinner. When she had asked recently if they could spend more time at her place, she had expected another push for her to move in with him, but instead, he had been staying more nights with her than not.

Can’t wait. Then more dots. Don’t worry about Hope. She’s a survivor. More dots. Honestly, I think it’ll be good for both of you if she gets on her own two feet.