“But you were. We spoke. You could have said something.” Sherri stands up and walks to the kitchen window, too agitated to sit still. She fingers the edge of the yellowed lace curtain and looks out at the tar rooftop of the building next to her. It’s so hot outside that the tar looks like it’s melting. It is getting dark. The sky is dusty pink, a hue she doesn’t see in Palm Springs. Sherri will meet Roberta at the tavern for a drink soon. “Did you know about his son even before—?” All these years later she still can’t talk about his death openly, still can’t bring herself to say “before he died.”

“Do we really need to go through all this? Nothing I tell you will bring him back. This is old news.”

“But Jerry, when did you know?” Sherri is insistent. Questions swirl in her brain. “You were the one who made such a big deal of him being single.”

“I thought he was. That house, he bought it in his own name. With money from a trust.”

“And?”

“And then somewhere along the way I found out he had a wife. I wish I’d warned you. I was going to. I was. When I brought you home that last time, before you bought your car, I lost my nerve. I think I’d started to say something, and then—”

“The turtle.”

“That’s right. If it makes you feel any better, I’ll bet that turtle is still alive. That little fucker is going to outlive both of us.”

Sherri almost has to laugh. Here she is learning a truth that will forever scramble her thinking, and they are talking about a turtle.

“I’ve never felt I was one to get involved in other people’s, erm, affairs. Doris had just left me. I was a mess. Who was I to tell you what to do with your life?”

It was one thing for Jerry to have found out about Arthur after he’d died, but to have known beforehand? What an idiot she’d been!

“Besides,” Jerry says, “I thought you might have figured it out on your own and been OK with it.”

“I was such an idiot! I didn’t figure things out back then. And I definitely would not have been OK with it.” Sherri remembers Jerry as blustery and brash, but the poor guy sitting in front of her is so uncomfortable that she feels sorry for him, and she recognizes with embarrassment that her drama is insignificant compared to the situation he’s facing. She sits back down across from him and exhales all her frustration. “I really can’t blame you. It was my life.”