Eliza repeated her question. “You don’t like it, do you?”

“Yes. Yes, I do. I’m sorry. I’m off somewhere else. . . . This job in Beaufort is exhausting. They—”

“I know.” She stood from the dressing table. “And you’re helping with that island thing, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, but that was just one trip.”

“With Amy.”

“Yes, Eliza, it’s her committee.

“Are you sure you want to go to this party?” She slid toward him, then touched his face. “We don’t have to go.” She wore a silver silk taffeta gown, lace covering the skirt like frosting.

“Lisbeth said it was important.”

“God, I hope they don’t announce an engagement, or pinning, or something god-awful like that.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.”

Eliza tilted her head. “You hadn’t?” She dropped her hand from his face.

“No.”

“Well, I have. And I hope it’s not true. Lisbeth is only a junior. She has so much more to see . . . do. She has to finish school and—”

“Ah, how quickly we forget. You married me when you were still finishing college.”

“That was different. Extenuating circumstances, should we say? Plus, I finished all my credits and graduated.” She laughed and kissed his cheek, ran her finger across the stubble on his chin. “Aren’t you going to shave tonight?”

He rubbed his hand across his cheek. “No, I’m not shaving. Why was it so different for us? What if Lisbeth is really in love?”

“Don’t defend this. You know why it was different. I was . . . it was true love with us—not what they have. Not some college infatuation and toss in the sheets. We were in a situation that made us grow up very, very fast. It was different and you know it.”

“You think what they have is infatuation, a toss in the sheets?”

“Dear God, I hope it’s not a toss in the sheets.”

“Then who’s in the sheets?”

“I just meant that . . . it . . . you and I weren’t that. We passed through fire to get to the other side.” She kissed him, opened her mouth against his as a peace offering.

He closed his eyes. He knew who she was talking about, mixing and melding Lisbeth and Jack with him and Amy; she was implying that he and Amy were a college infatuation, a toss in the sheets. It was the first time in many years that they had even come close to discussing what had happened in Costa Rica, to what had brought them together. He grasped at the chance.

“Do you remember the lawyer from then?” he asked.

“Mr. Carreira?”

“See, you could always say his name. I could never even pronounce it.”

Eliza smiled. “Yes, he told me that.”

“Do you know what ever happened to him?”