Then I leave the laundry room for the kitchen, where all the breakfast dishes are still waiting for me.

A couple of days later, I bump into Nic at Paule Attar in Madison Park. She’s just leaving as I’m arriving.

“Welcome home, stranger,” Nic says, giving me a hug.

“Thanks.” I step back, admire her hair. “Looks good.”

“Michelle.”

“I’m just going to see her now.” I suddenly remember Nic dropped off dinner for us last week, a dinner to help us get by when Jessica was hurt. “By the way, thank you so much for dinner. I left a voice mail for you—”

“I got it. I’ve just been busy. My sister’s in town, and she has a baby. It’s a zoo at my house.” Nic retrieves her sunglasses from her purse. “Is Jessica doing better?”

“Much. Yesterday was her first day back at school. Thank goodness. I’m behind on work again, but I also needed my color done.” Nic would understand this. Appointments with Michelle are hard to come by. Michelle’s booked solid weeks in advance. “Where are you going now?”

“Home and then to University Village. My sister’s dying to go shopping, and it’s a pretty day.”

“Sounds like fun.”

Nic blows me a kiss. “Talk soon.”

In the salon, I sit in Michelle’s chair as she mixes my color. “How was Hawaii?”

“How do you know I went to Hawaii?”

“You were in here getting your hair cut just before you went.”

I’d forgotten. And I didn’t just get my hair cut, I got an eyebrow wax and that ungodly, unbearable Brazilian. Now that Kai and I are finished, I guess that’s one thing I won’t have to do again. “It was good.”

Michelle’s dark arched eyebrow lifts higher. “Just good? Last time you were here you were really excited. You’d bought new clothes, were getting your first Brazilian—”

“Don’t remind me. The Brazilian was embarrassing. I felt bad that Valera had to move all those girl parts around, but she says she does it all the time.”

Michelle begins to brush the color on my scalp. “So when are you going back to Hawaii?”

I lean forward, reach for the stack of magazines on the counter of her station. “I’m not.”

She pauses, brush in midair. “No?”

I just shake my head, open the copy of W magazine. It’s an old issue. I read it last month, but I pretend to be interested now.

Michelle hesitates, but when she sees I’m done talking she silently applies the rest of the color. But as she finishes up, she peels off her gloves, drops them on her tray, and says, “Did he have a girlfriend?”

I know we’re still talking about Kai. I knew Michelle wasn’t done, either. “No.”

“A wife. Kids. What?”