“Don’t you dare hang up on me,” Electra insisted.

Micah smiled. “I have to go.”

With that, he disconnected the call and looked at Dena.

“Sorry about that.”

She looked startled. “Your, ah, girlfriend?”

“No. My ex-wife.”

“Oh. She’s stunning.”

“Yes, but the inside doesn’t match the outside.”

Dena still looked as if she might bolt, and Micah didn’t want her to leave. He closed the laptop, then moved toward her. “What’s up?”

“I, ah... Oh, it’s snowing. I don’t know if it will last, but there’s actual snow. I thought you’d want to see it...” Her voice trailed off. “It’s a thing here. The first snowfall.”

“I’ve heard.”

“It has to snow for a full fifteen minutes. I’m afraid it might turn to rain.” She looked at the floor, then back at him. “I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

“You’re never a bother. Let me get my coat and we can go watch the snow together.”

Dena looked at his computer. “You two stay in touch?”

“Not really. We used to write songs together, which was strange after the divorce. We got married because we were kids and we thought that’s what adults did. But it was a mistake from the beginning. We weren’t in love. Not really.”

He fastened his coat, then pulled on gloves. “She wants us to write together again.”

“What do you want?”

“Not to write with her. It was different all those years ago. These days I want something more substantial than she can offer.”

She smiled. “I understand the words, but not what they mean. I’m nothing close to an artist.”

“You’re something even better,” he said, opening his door. “You’re a teacher.”

“A lot of people are teachers.”

“Only the best ones.”

They stepped outside. Snow was falling, but it didn’t feel that cold to him. Not that he knew anything about snow, beyond the fact that it formed up in clouds or the sky, so maybe that was the temperature that mattered.

“Does she still write?” Dena asked.

“No. Electra’s not interested in songwriting as an art. She wants to get back into the music business. She wants to be relevant and she sees me as her way to make that happen. With Adriana gone, she’s making a run at me.”

“She didn’t want to write with you when you were married?”

“She did, but Adriana was opposed to the idea. She didn’t trust Electra.”

Dena surprised him by smiling. “I think I would have liked Adriana very much.”

He laughed. “She would have liked you, too.”

He took her gloved hand and drew her out into the snow. The flakes were light and small. He looked up at the sky.

“Are we supposed to do something? Turn in a circle three times or hum?”

“We wait.”

“I’m not especially good at waiting,” he admitted.