Nora straightened again, her face flushing. “I think he’s got someone new coming Monday,” she said, noncommittal, because she did know he would be coming. I’ll sneak up after I’m done, he’d said late the other night, whispering this promise against her skin. I want to see you before you go on your trip.

She hadn’t so much agreed as she had distracted him, letting her own lips move across his skin, making a set of promises to herself. Will Sterling was someone she wanted to choose for herself, and she was going to tell him so. No more secrets, no more limits, no more projects that she could take care of herself.

Tonight, she was going to tell him.

“I hope it’s not a man,” said Marian, and Benny nodded solemnly.

When Will came over, he was holding a bucket filled with a new roll of paper towels and some extra cleaning supplies, his smile in that easy, charming register that Nora had come to recognize not so much as false but as particular. Public-facing, practiced. It wasn’t her favorite expression of Will’s, but it delighted her that she could read it so well.

“Well, now,” he said, looking over the assembled boxes. “What’s been happening here?”

“Nora’s got us doing a charity drive,” Benny said, and Will looked to her, his public smile transforming, briefly, into something private.

“Have you come here to clean your apartment all by yourself ?” said Mrs. Salas, obviously impressed.

Marian clucked her tongue, because she did not approve of grade inflation in any form.

“Sure am. Took the day off.”

For this, Nora sent back her own private smile, an acknowledgment of Will having taken it a bit easier the last few weeks, not doing extra clinic shifts on his days off from the hospital.

“You won’t need the whole day,” said Marian. “That woman and her child, they were tidy people. Emily and I went in there twice, you know.”

Will looked at Marian. “Is that right?”

Mrs. Salas answered for her. “Oh, I went in there once, too! The daughter, she’s quite the young baker! Probably you’ll want to spend extra time on that oven.”

“Of course,” Marian said, “we told them they could come back for the next poetry night.”

Will nodded seriously. “Of course.”

But Nora could tell he was . . . proud, maybe. Proud and relieved, to get this tentative seal of approval from her neighbors. Suddenly she wondered if she’d even bother waiting until tonight to tell him. Maybe she’d follow him right into his apartment and tell him in the bright light of day, windows open. Who cared who heard it?

“Oh, here’s the beanpole,” came Jonah’s voice behind her. “I’ve got a bone to pick with you, now.”