“Me, too. Listen, we’re having a little brunch party Sunday, very informal, just some friends and acquaintances. We’d love to have you. Bring Karim— Josh will be eternally grateful.”

Jenna hesitated. She accepted few social invitations. It was a habit born of the old fear: in a crowd of new faces, who might at last recognize hers? Over the years, almost without realizing she was doing it, she had made her son and her work into a twin-towered castle from which she rarely ventured.

“I know it’s short notice,” said Carolyn. Jenna decided. “Not at all. It sounds nice.”

“You’ll make it nicer. Bring a guest, too. The more the merrier.”

“I think Karim will be enough. Thank you. I look forward to it. What time should we be there?”

“Elevenish. As I said, it’s very casual. Most of us will be wearing workout clothes, old college sweats.”

Walking home, Jenna already felt uncomfortable about accepting Carolyn’s invitation. What had persuaded her to do it? The other woman seemed personable enough, but what did they really have in common except that Karim and Josh were classmates?

Maybe it was just a matter of being tired of living like a recluse.

Bring a guest. If only Carolyn knew what a sad joke that was. In her seven years in Boston, she had never had a real relationship, hardly even a date. It wasn’t for want of opportunity; in college, a dozen young fellow students— and a couple of not-so-young professors—had made overtures. She had brushed them off. In those days, it seemed to her that Ali and Philippe had ruined men for her, the one by his cruelty, the other by providing an example no one else could match.

But time had passed. She was thirty, and she felt something missing in her life. She wondered if there could be someone for her someday despite every- thing, despite the fact that, after all, she was still a married woman.

Maybe that was why she had decided to go to the party, she thought as she turned in at her door. Maybe she was hoping for something new, some- thing good to happen. And why not?

Home. Entering her apartment always filled her with a sense of pride and security. She had moved in a year earlier, after her practice had gotten off the ground. Two bedrooms, with a third converted to a workspace. It was expensive but not outrageous, unlike the first place she had taken in Boston.