As soon as she’d replaced her shoes, Violet was out the door and stalking away. Sam ran to her side and matched her pace. His jaw was clenched tightly, and Violet noticed a vein throbbing in his neck. Neither spoke a word until they reached the car. Sam opened the passenger door as Violet handed him her heels, declaring, “My feet are killing me. Let’s just go home.”

“Not until we visit my cousin and his wife. They’re dying to meet you, and I promised.”

Violet sighed. “I guess I have no choice.” She settled into the seat and pouted, refusing to look at Sam.

An hour later they rolled up in front of a compact house surrounded by oak trees. A red-haired toddler was furiously pedaling a miniature Pontiac on the sidewalk leading to the front porch. He jumped out and ran to scream into the screen door, “Mom! They’re here!”

Sam helped her out and into a hug from a beautiful young woman with a drooling baby on her hip. “I’m Katie,” she said. “We’ve heard so much about you, Violet. Welcome.” She shifted the baby and grabbed his starfish hand to wave it. “This is Melvin, and the wild boy circling the yard is little Samuel. He’s named after his handsome cousin.” She pecked Sam on the cheek. “Y’all come in. Mel’s in the kitchen, where a good husband belongs.”

Violet followed her, charmed by the baby grinning over Katie’s shoulder. They settled on a couch as Sam went in search of Mel, leaving them to “girl talk.”

“So,” Katie began, “Sam seems pretty crazy about you.” Melvin stared at Violet with huge blue eyes.

“Maybe until today. We had a little spat, and I think he’s mad at me,” Violet answered. She smoothed her skirt and smiled at Melvin, who responded with giggly spit bubbles. “He’s adorable,” she told Katie. “Sometimes I want a baby of my own so bad.”

“I’ll let you spend some time with my little monsters. That’ll cure you.” Katie glanced out the window. “For instance, my older child is trying to dismantle Sam’s car.” She handed the baby to Violet and ran to the screen door, screaming. “Samuel Patrick Sobel! Stop that right now!” The boy rose and held up the tire valve cover he’d removed, grinning ear to ear. “Put it back!” Katie yelled. She settled back on the couch and ran her fingers through long red hair. “They’re a mess,” she told Violet.

Violet hesitated a second, then blurted, “Patrick isn’t a Jewish name, is it?”