“… it was this boys versus girls softball game we were in, that’s where we first …”

“Would you like it, if he saw that?”

“No.”

“You wouldn’t?”

“Of course not …”

“Well, that’s something …”

“But I wouldn’t … and I’m not trying to start anything here … no offense, but I wouldn’t want him to see it in anyone’s mouth. I mean, including yours.” He almost grimaces after that one, not sure he didn’t just step into some abyss.

“Then perhaps you should stop sticking it in people’s mouths … shouldn’t you?”

“… yeah. I mean, yes, you’re right.” That’s the least he can say. She does have a point there, albeit a fairly simple mathematical one.

“So, it was in, then?” She waits.

“… what?”

“You had your thing out and in …”

“Yes.” Better to cut his losses now, mercy of the court and all that. “I did, yes, for just, like, a second. A moment is all. Honestly.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah …”

“Because I couldn’t really see … my eyes hadn’t adjusted. I was pretty sure that’s what was happening there, with the two of you, but I wasn’t completely. Certain, I mean. Because of the dark. But, hey, now I know …” She smiles weakly, finally matching one of his more pathetic grins at the same instant. “I only went in there looking for their tiki torches. They told me we could use them for the barbecue on Saturday. That’s why I … anyway …”

“Listen, we were just …”

“Right.”

“You know?”

“Yeah, college, I know …”

“Exactly.”

“The big game and all.”

“Yep …” He fixates on a framed picture for a moment, drifting. A Hopper print of someone sitting in a room somewhere. Alone. Lucky bastard, he thinks to himself.

“I see.”

“… I mean, you’re in the city, right? And you run into a bunch of folks from home, you know, men and women out there on the grass having fun, and you just sort of get caught up in the thing … few beers … I can’t really explain it better than that …” He tries to, though, for a minute at least, his mouth searching for a more perfect phrase. It doesn’t come.

“OK.”

“Does that make any sense?”

“No, none.” She shrugs, unwilling to say more.

“Oh …”

“But I understand. I understand that it makes sense to you … somehow.”

“It does. I know it sounds wobbly, but …”

“And since it does, make sense, I mean, you’ll need to explain it to them …”

“Who?”

“The children.”

“… what do you mean?”

“You’re going to need to sit them down—they’re back from swimming in forty minutes—and you’ll need to walk them through this as best you can.”

“No, I can’t … what?”

“My leaving, I mean. You’ll need to come up with something for that. Tell them the rest if you want to, but you have to explain where I’ve gone.”

“But where are you … ?”