No one had yet said to Joel that he would change his mind in time, and no one now reminded him that he had taken Nick that afternoon to the state hospital. It was not so much kindness—Eben at least was not always kind to the young—as that Joel seemed curiously invulnerable. And that, Olivia thought, is what innocence is all about. It is experience that tears us apart—and for good reason.

Christina quite deliberately changed the subject now, and, anyway, the evening had reached its peak, and fatigue was beginning to show. Cornelius, who had been deeply interested, had nodded several times and finally consented to be wheeled into the drawing room by the fire while the others washed dishes and got coffee ready. After helping all they could, Joel and Cathy slipped away into the spring night.

“I thought it would never end,” Joel said. “I love you so.” He walked fast as if he were taking her away somewhere at full speed, as if he could not wait to get there, wherever they were bound. “They’re all so kind, but they don’t really understand, Cathy.”

“I know,” she said. “You were so great, Joel. I was so proud of you.”

They had reached an old apple tree by a stone wall. Its fruit was wizened and good only for deer, but every spring it was covered with flowers, a basket of bees and sweet scent and tiny red buds that opened to show bright gold centers—even in the dark, it was there, a white presence. Joel took off his jacket and they sat on it, on a big boulder. He held Cathy’s head against him with one hand and kissed her hair.

Then he felt the tears, hot on his other hand, clasped in hers.

“What is it? Cathy, darling, why are you crying?”

She couldn’t explain. It was, she felt, that as love grows deeper it tears apart, makes openings in the flesh. All she could do was sob, “I don’t know how to live without you!”

“You’ll write great poems, Cathy.”

But this remark brought on more tears. “I don’t want to write, I want to be!” She wrenched herself away and blew her nose. “It’s all so complicated, Joel—I feel I’m being left alone among st-str-strangers.” The word came out as another sob.

“Your Aunt Olivia? You told me she understood everything.”

“Yes, but …” For a moment Joel held her hard against him and they were silent. The stars had come out since they had walked out of the house. Now the sky was pricked with light as the air, hazy at first, chilled and cleared.

They looked up. “It’s calming,” Cathy said, “isn’t it?”

Joel’s presence, so firm and healing, lifted her.