“Leave me alone, Karen. Please.”

“Do you want to marry her?”

“What does that have to do with it? I’d have all this behind me. If I ever thought of it, I’d have only myself to blame.”

“Don’t talk like that if you don’t mean it.”

“Wouldn’t I? Wouldn’t I have it behind me?”

“Yes. Do you want it?”

“Sometimes. I do now. Defending, protecting you—I hate that. I’m happy when you’re yourself. Doing things. Not worrying. That’s the way you were on Monday in the Flamingo. She noticed it. Anybody can see it in a moment. I don’t mind catching the odd minutes with you, between the trips to schools and all the paperwork. I almost don’t mind waiting for another child—”

She had been very still. “What do you mean, defending and protecting?”

“Roberts. He tried to project himself between Palmer and you. And me. He started giving me opinions.”

“That wasn’t what you meant. You meant now. How are you protecting me?”

He shook his head. He was willing to believe that he had steered them toward this, it had come on them so quickly. It was an embittering thought; a man hoped that he decided such things. If he told her, he would have to put away the entertaining thoughts of Norma. Once past this, he and Karen could almost coast to an understanding. It seemed to be true. He could not hurt her if he was going to continue to harbor other ideas. It reminded him of MacIver and he did not like it. The decision turned on so fine a point as this moment, this moment only, and he did not like that, either. If he thought it through again he would begin to look for ways out.

“Karen, Jerry Palmer died last year.”

She stared.

“Roberts told me. It was cancer.”

She nodded and turned to sit down. “Tuesday? He told you this Tuesday?”

“Yes.”

She rubbed her forehead. “Why didn’t you come home? Why didn’t you just call me and come home?”

“Don’t attack me. There were many good, legitimate reasons to stay.”

“I’m not attacking you,” she cried. “Did you tell me the truth? Did he do all this Tuesday?”

“Yes.”

She got up. “I don’t know what to say.” She waved her hand at him to keep him from talking. “I don’t even—I guess the fact that you called tells me what I should know about us.” She started inside again. “He must have thought some nice things about us. Jerry, I mean.”

“He blamed me. He was still a stupid man.”

“Misinformed.” She looked back at him, her eyes wet. She held onto the doorframe. “Remember how I lied? I do.”

“Don’t do anything to yourself. You aren’t responsible.”

“I know. Don’t stay there, Joe. I want to sit in the dark, but I don’t want to be alone. Put up with me a little longer.”

“Don’t talk like that, either.” He closed the door. She sat on the bed.