As she walked down the stairs that evening, her shoes made unnaturally loud clicks on the hardwood. She had almost reached the bottom when she stopped. She heard voices. Sydney and Bay were in the sitting room. She was going to have to walk past them. Okay, so what? This was a perfectly normal thing to do.

She straightened her shoulders and walked down the remaining steps. Sydney and Bay were painting their toenails. Claire was so nervous she didn’t even tell them to be careful not to get polish on the furniture or the floor.

When they didn’t look up, Claire cleared her throat. “I’m going over to Tyler’s,” she said from the archway. “I may be a while.”

“Okay,” Sydney said, still not looking up from Bay’s toes.

“Do I look okay?”

“Yes, you always—” Sydney finally looked up and saw what Claire was wearing, the way her hair was styled, the makeup on her face, the fact that she didn’t have a dish in her hands. “Oh,” she said, smiling. “Keep your feet out, Bay. I’ll be right back.”

Sydney duck-walked with her wet toenails into the foyer. “This is certainly a surprise.”

“What do I do?” Claire asked.

Sydney finger-combed Claire’s hair and tucked some strands behind one ear. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seduced a man, honestly. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seduced a man honestly. Huh. But we’re talking about Tyler here, the man who has turned my bedroom walls purple from all his midnight romps around his yard, thinking of you. It won’t be hard to do. He’s already there, he’s just waiting for you.”

“I don’t know how to do temporary.”

“Then don’t. Believe it’s permanent. Either it will be or it won’t.”

Claire sucked in a small, deep breath, like just before a shot at the doctor’s office. “That will hurt.”

“Love always hurts. That’s one thing I know you know,” Sydney said. “But it’s worth it. That’s what you don’t know. Yet.”

“Okay,” Claire said. “Here I go.”

Sydney opened the front door, but Claire just stood there, looking out into the darkening evening.

“Well,” Sydney said when Claire didn’t move, “I suggest you walk, since floating isn’t working.”

One foot in front of the other, Claire walked out the door and down the steps. She rarely wore heels, but she did that night, sandals with long thin heels, so she had to go to the sidewalk instead of walking across the yards.

When she reached his front door, she was cheered by the warm light and the soft music undulating from his open windows. He was listening to something lyrical, classical. She could imagine him relaxing, maybe with a glass of wine. What if he didn’t have wine? She should have brought wine.