Now, as he stood there looking at her, Giancarlo was struck by how much time had passed. How odd, it seemed to him, that in such a little place as Rhode Island, their paths had not crossed again much sooner. Then it occurred to him that perhaps somewhere along the line they had, and he simply had not been paying attention. This would not have surprised Giancarlo; his thoughts were often far away from wherever he happened to find himself at any given moment.

“I didn’t recognize you at first,” he said. “It must be because you’re wearing your hair much shorter these days.”

“I know,” Claire sighed, playfully flicking a few strands with her fingers. “Sometimes I miss wearing it long, but this length makes life a little simpler. It’s so much easier to take care of.”

In bringing her hand to her hair, Claire revealed a wedding band, which Giancarlo did not fail to notice. It really should have come as no surprise to him.Time had gone by since they were together, and Claire had moved on. What else could he have expected? All the same, the sight of it caused him a momentary ache. Why, he was not quite sure.

“It still looks good on you, whatever its length,” he assured her nonetheless. “In fact you look wonderful.”

“Thanks,” she said with a smile. “So do you.” She paused, and nodded to the dictionary and magazine in his hand. “What are you reading these days?”

“Oh, these are not for me,” Giancarlo replied. “They’re for a student of mine who is planning a trip to Italy.”

“That’s right,” said Claire. “I forgot that you give Italian lessons during the summer.”

“Keeps me occupied,” he said with a shrug. “How about you? What brings you out to the bookstore on such a dreary day?”

Claire gave a shrug of her own. “Besides shopping, where else can you take two little girls on a rainy day?” she said.

For a moment Giancarlo did not understand. Then Claire lifted the coat draped over her forearm and showed him the two smaller raincoats lying beneath.

“Children?” he said with great surprise. “Yours?”

“Two daughters,” Claire beamed.

“But where are they?” said Giancarlo, looking about.

“They’re in the back, listening to the storyteller. I’ve just been wandering around the bookshelves to pass the time. Come on, I’ll show you.” She took him by the elbow and led him to the end of the aisle. “See them there?” she said, pointing to two little girls, one perhaps five years of age, the other a year or two older. With their blonde hair and sweet faces, the two sisters were the very image of their mother.

“They’re beautiful,” Giancarlo whispered to her. “You’re very lucky, and I’m very happy for you.”

“Thanks,” she whispered back.