Ed is standing in the doorway, his reflection behind hers, his eyes admiring what her reflection doesn’t reveal to her. Alice watches as Ed’s reflection bends to kiss the back of her neck. It’s like watching strangers through a window—avatars of Ed and Alice Parmalee.

The softness of Ed’s lips against her skin is not a reflection, but real, and sends a frisson of energy through her body, a quickening of something she’s forgotten existed. For once, she doesn’t say “Oh Ed.” For the first time in a very long time, it feels like her idea.

*   *   *

“I forgot about Buddy.”

“It’s cool in the garage. He’s fine.” Alice sits on the edge of the scrambled bed and pulls on her jeans. “But let’s go. He’s probably wondering what happened to you.”

Ed reaches for Alice’s shoulder and pulls her down against his bare chest. “Let’s not tell him.”

Alice swings her feet back onto the bed and sighs. “I think he may figure it out.” She doesn’t struggle to break free of his embrace, but settles herself into it. “He’s such a smart dog. It’s like he understands everything.”

“He’s really great, isn’t he?” Ed shifts a little, begins to stroke a lock of her hair as if he’s stroking the soft ears of the dog. “I went there yesterday. To the millpond.”

Alice lies very still. Her heart is beating. She is breathing. She feels the weight of each individual rock pressing against her own ribs. The water rises but does not crest the dam of her grief. “Was it all right?”

“After a while. Buddy was there and he went a little nuts on a squirrel that literally dashed right under his nose. He nearly fell in, but didn’t. He did look a little embarrassed, though. Alice, he made me laugh. There. That place. I laughed.”

And then Ed holds her so close that the weight of the rocks is nothing compared to the pressure of his arms and his need. The grief does not subside, but the waters do, and Alice pats Ed’s arm. “It’s okay, Ed. It was good for you to go. It’s the same for me when I go to the cemetery. There’s some comfort in the tangible.”

“I thought maybe I’d figure it out, if I finally looked at it. But all I figured out is that people still fish there and it’s still a pretty spot. The leaves are already changing and the big trees are reflected in the millpond, like you’re seeing everything double. Peaceful. Except for that squirrel, completely still. Nothing about it explained anything. She wasn’t there, Alice.”