The Saturday before Valentine’s Day at Don & Charlie’s steakhouse isn’t an easy reservation to come by, but Audrey gets them a nice corner table. The waiter treats them like young lovers, placing a rose on the table “for the lady,” setting down a dish of heart-shaped butter dollops. Schmaltzy, but Michael doesn’t mind. Audrey looks great in the flickering candlelight: her little black dress, her hair pulled back to the nape of her neck, a touch of pink lipstick, something small and sparkling at her throat. The room is swaying with a romantic string soundtrack. God, Michael loves her.

They start with martinis and get a steak for two, the works. Audrey usually eats like a bird, but this night she eats like a hungry bird, giving her husband the bigger half of the steak but enjoying her own pile of meat, red and oozing. They talk about the team. During the off-season Jimmy Cardozo reupped for some big number. Michael’s still proud of the work he did with the catcher; Jimmy was a dolt at the plate until he met Michael in Salt Lake. Audrey listens attentively, nodding and chewing, chewing and nodding, sipping on her wine. “Oh, look, Mikey,” she says every few minutes, pointing up to some framed sports photo or piece of memorabilia. It is one of the largest private collections in America, hung helter-skelter so something is always popping into view. A big black-and-white photo of Babe Ruth in his home-run stance. A signed Greg Maddux jersey. A pennant from the Brooklyn Dodgers. A whole rack of glinting World Series rings. A picture of Joe in a tailored suit, big shoulders and a tight waist, smiling and shaking the hand of some starched shirt. A shot of Jason Goodyear, holding one of his MVP trophies.

Audrey and Michael split their wine like they do their steaks, and after sharing a bottle of it, Michael is feeling good. They eat a slice of key lime pie for dessert, and Michael leaves the waiter a nice tip. When they get up to leave, Audrey goes to freshen up in the ladies’ room, and Michael steps outside for some night air. Since sundown the temperature has dropped twenty degrees, and a breeze, full of acacia blooms, is blowing cool and sweet.