“Someone left me a letter, on The Cove stationery. Someone trying to help me.” I watch his face. It’s a blank, lightly freckled slate.

“Hmm. Well, it wasn’t me.” He folds his arms across his chest.

He didn’t ask me what it said. Is he being polite, or does he already know the contents? We lock eyes. And then I bat mine.

He shifts in his chair. He isn’t flirting, but I might be. “Look, I came here because I think you should know something about Betsy.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ve known the girls since they were little. I’ve watched them grow up to become beautiful, talented young women, like their mom.” He takes an awkward pause.

“I know. Thank you.” I sit up straight, tilting my head to present my best side. I’m camera ready and now I’m on set. I reach for a strand of my hair and twirl it around my finger. I’m glad I have new yoga pants on. I cross my legs under the table.

“I’m worried about Betsy.” Hoffman stops and looks at me.

I shrug. “I don’t understand. She’s fine, actually got into community college, and she’s graduating with her class Thursday. All’s good.”

“Have you noticed anything? I mean, I know it must be so hard, with Mary gone, and now this. I didn’t want to bother you, but I just think you should know. I mean, some of the rumors about her aren’t good.” Hoffman exhales. He’s talking fast, his forehead is shiny with sweat.

“Are you sure you don’t want a glass of water?” Poor man. I have him in a tizzy. I lick my lips.

“Maybe I should talk to David? I don’t want to upset you.” He wipes his forehead with his hand.

“No, you should talk to me. I am her mother.” If I haven’t noticed anything, I guarantee Mr.-not-ever-home hasn’t, either. “Betsy is a lot different than Mary. Always has been. That’s all. She’s more creative, more of a loner. She hangs out with the artists, the theater kids. The ones without any athletic skills.” I almost say Betsy is darker, but that doesn’t seem right. I shouldn’t say that to Hoffman. Besides, I think I already know what he’s trying to spit out. And it must have something to do with Bo.

“There’s more to it. Maybe ask Betsy directly? Ask her if she has a boyfriend? An older boyfriend. I got a call, from another mom. She saw the two of them together at Volunteer Day and felt like something was going on. It may be nothing, just gossip.” Hoffman stands and shoves his hands into the pockets of his khaki shorts. He starts walking to the door and I have to hurry to keep up.