“I see,” I said, not knowing what else to say. I’d been to our father’s grave, once, soon after he’d been laid to rest. It was in the south corner, with a view of the river, and I’d brought a small Christmas wreath with white roses and a red bow. I’d considered him differently then. I thought I’d known him.

Wallis waited, assuming, it seemed, that I would have my own offering. But I ducked away from her eyes and instead lunged for my sneaker before it ended up in the dog’s mouth.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what my message says?” she asked.

“It’s yours,” I said, wanting this day to be about us, not my father. “You don’t want it to stay private?”

“From you? Why? It’s a letter of forgiveness. I’m in a good place. I have a good relationship, a good job. I’m ready to release the resentment. Love and light, you know?”

I’d thought time would be a positive force, moving me further and further away from the pain of what Gregory had done. But I was finding the opposite was true.

For Wallis’s sake, I kept this to myself. “Love and light,” I echoed.

We parked Blake’s Audi near the cemetery, in an adorable part of town with two-story row houses and tree-lined streets. Wallis would have been happy to walk slowly, enjoying the neighborhood that reminded her in many ways of her beloved Georgetown, but Crabtree had other ideas. He dragged us to the iron gates of the cemetery and, once inside and off-leash, took to the muddy grass with a woof that sounded almost human in its joy.

We trailed behind, trusting him to lead us through the cobbled paths and worn routes between headstones. It was the time of year when our jackets became too heavy, after the gray skies and ice storms of winter, and we both regretted bringing them. With the dog occupied, Wallis turned her attention to me, asked me what was new.

“Nothing much,” I said. “What’s new with you?” I thought she might bring up what happened last weekend, when she and Blake had been caught by a camera together at DC’s annual march for science and, more broadly, logic and facts. Wallis had been carrying a sign that said, The oceans are rising...and so are we, and appeared to be shouting, or cheering. Blake had a smile on his face. They’d been holding hands. The picture had made a brief splash on social media, enough to reenergize the worst of the trolls.

“Nothing much.” Wallis twirled the leash in her hands and grinned. If she was concerned by the picture, and the reaction to it, she certainly didn’t show it. “What’s new with you?”

I laughed as I nudged a rock with my toe. “You go first.”

“Nose game.”