“That’s great. I’ll check with Phil. I think a trip to the lake sounds just lovely.”

As soon as she agreed, as soon as she knew she would see Nick again, some ancient, hurt piece of Amy rose within her. In agreeing to go, in saying yes to the lake, the worst part of her—the part that still clung to whatever had happened with Nick Lowry—was having its say, words and actions already coming from her without her willing them.

In the clogged traffic on the drive home, Phil listened to the postgame show on the radio. Amy closed her eyes, tried to find a calming point. Her body vibrated as if it were a tuning fork humming to a new energy. She couldn’t settle her mind or her limbs, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to quiet herself—it had been a long time since she’d thought about or reacted to anyone like Nick Lowry.

Phil touched her leg. “Now, Ame, how did you know Nick?”

“We hung around the same crowd in college. Not a big deal.”

It was a lie. She knew it was a lie. But she couldn’t bear to have Phil half-listen to her, to the story of Nick, with the postgame show on the radio. It seemed these days that Phil only partially heard anything she said and the effort needed to listen to the old and painful story required much more from him than she knew was in him to give right then.

“I never knew what happened to him. He kind of disappeared after college—went to Costa Rica or something like that.” Now that was the truth.

“You know, I sort of remember Nick from Hank’s Pool Hall. Could you imagine if he and Eliza ended up being Jack’s in-laws?” Phil laughed. “My God, Nick drunk and rambling at every gathering. It would be an entertaining way to spend holidays, wouldn’t it?”

Phil laughed. A nail file rubbed against Amy’s nerves.

“Drunk? I’m sure he doesn’t drink like that now. And he didn’t just hang out at Hank’s. He actually worked there.” Amy looked out the window. “He wasn’t drunk today.” She pushed at the bridge of her nose. Phil had already agreed in front of the Lowrys to go to the lake house. “You agreed to join them next weekend. Our children are dating and we’re obviously going to have to spend some time with them. I’d like for it to be pleasant for Lizzy, Lisbeth, whatever her name is, and Jack.”

Children: a great excuse. Amy felt dirty, hungover with the first lie, now the second. She leaned her head against the window.