“Yes. One more drag and that’s enough for me.” There was a convulsion on her side of the bed. She was arching her back and pulling up her nightgown. He held the cigarette to her lips. “Good,” she said. “You finish it.” She rolled against him, lifting her knee over his thigh. He put his arm around her and pulled her gown up more. Her back was still damp. He tucked the covers around her. She opened his pajamas slowly and rubbed his stomach with the tips of her fingers. “Do you love me?” she asked.

“I always have,” he said. He snubbed out the cigarette and put the ash tray on the night table. He groped around: the ash tray went on the MacIver file. He cradled Karen’s head against his chest and kissed her hair. “I’ve always loved you.”

“Do you think you’ll do anything in Port Smith?”

“I don’t know.”

“You can still do whatever you want,” she said. “You know that.”

“I know.”

“Have you thought about it?”

“What?”

“Doing things with her.”

“A little.” He wanted to stop her. He turned her head up and kissed her on the mouth. She moved up, kissing him deeply. When he opened his eyes, she was looking at him. The window was near her side of the bed; the light from it let him see her eyes. She was almost sitting up.

“This is our business, isn’t it?”

“Of course,” he said.

“I never think this way out of bed anymore,” she said. “You know that.”

“Yes, I know that.”

“I had to say it. I had to get it out of my system. I don’t want you to do anything with her.”

“I know that, too.”

She smiled. “What I want doesn’t matter, does it.”

“No, it doesn’t. I’ll do what I want.”

“That’s right, that’s right. I love you.” She kissed him, kissed his neck. He tried to move her toward him. She breathed steadily, deeply.

“Come on,” he said.

“I’d die for you, Joey.”

He smiled. “I’m not asking for that, Freckles.”

It was a litany they had started in college, one of many ways they could say they were happy.

“I love you,” she said again. “I’ve been waiting all day to be with you.”

“I’m sorry I was rough on you this afternoon.”